No White Knights
by Vindicem
Summary: Discontinued. As I wrote, things just didn't pan out how I'd have liked. Things got unintentionally edgy quick and without a full reboot(which I lack the will to do) there's no saving it from the cringe that I see it as. Going to leave it up however just in case anyone has bad taste and enjoyed it. The irony of all this isn't lost on me.
1. Prologue

**No White Knights**

**Prologue**

** _Author's note: __First story, so I'm still figuring out how things work so if I get something wrong then do please PM me. The same more or less goes for the story as well, PM or leave a review with any criticism as it would be greatly appreciated in order to improve my writing. On the topic of writing, the first chapter is intentionally vague as I will likely use it for the start of other cross-overs depending on how this one goes. With that, onto disclaimer and then the story._**

**_Disclaimer: I do not own either the Fallout Franchise nor Rwby, they belong to Bethesda and Monty Oum of Rooster Teeth studios respectively. Also, the cover image is from Leo Spartan art's (I think)_**

**_EDIT: Due to the death of Monty, I have made this story very AU. Exciting things planned so secret even I don't know it all yet! The basic's of the RWBY story will still be there. However a lot will be changed, so do keep that in mind. Hope you stick around with the story, enjoy~_**

* * *

"Fuck! Fuck! Ah! Almost! Don-," her yell cut out abruptly as her breathing hitched. She sat atop him frozen in ecstasy for a heartbeat as she peaked, then another, until collapsing atop him. Her breath came out harshly as she tried to refill empty and exhausted lungs.

A fun night this was.

Absently the man underneath withdrew himself, enticing a shudder from her and began to rub small circles in her back. After a few long moments she finally sighed. Having finally recuperated enough, she settled onto the man more firmly.

"Could you run your hand through my hair?" She delicately asked. Without a word the man complied. Her drenched short black hair running through scarred fingers. "Thanks." She murmured softly into his neck.

Amazing how she went from yells and moans to something so soft. It caused him to chuckle quietly to himself. _Gotta love these brotherhood dams._

They lay there a moment cuddled close until her breathing became more steady and deep. Again a sharp contrast to her earlier erratic and frantic breath. Another dozen minutes or so to make sure she was asleep and then he was up and getting dressed.

"A busy man I am,  
I've much to plan and damn." The man muttered to himself as he finished tightening his belt and made ready to leave.

He made it to the door before he paused a moment and peaked back towards her. _She'll get cold._ He 'tsked' softly to himself and brought the covers over her. _There_. Turning on his heel he silently left the small room, not making a whisper with his steps.

Outside the harsh sun beat onto his face illuminating his previously shadowed sharp features and also causing him to squint amber eyes slightly even under a pair of sunglasses. Even as a slight breeze whisked through his dirty brown hair. The sun in the Mojave is as unforgiving today as any.

"There you are! Just where have you been?" A familiar Australian accented voice sounded from below him. He didn't bother looking down at her and instead focused on the large green Dinosaur construct yards in front of him. She hated being looked down on after all.

"Top of the morning to you too. Erin." He replied eventually with a sharp grin. He heard a annoyed grunt from below followed by the sounds of footsteps moving up rickety metal stairs. She hadn't worn heels. How delightfully new.

"Where the hell have you been? Also, it's afternoon." She paused to frown a moment before returning to her scolding. "Seriously you're late to your own meeting! Extremely late in fact!" She shouted as she drew to his side. Hopefully she wasn't loud enough to-

"What's going on out here?" Came the slightly hoarse voice of the Brotherhood of Steel Quartermaster, Knight Torres. "Courier? What're you doing?" She blinked in the harsh sun as she spotted him in front of the door.

"For the love of- is this why you're days late?" Erin all but roared in his ear, invading the man's personnel space.

"Good morning or afternoonTorres. To answer your question, I am currently dying." The Courier replied dryly with a regretful frown.

"Death would be a privilege too good for you. Now say good bye to your one nighter and let's get a fucking move on. You're late enough." Erin said with a hint of resignation.

Sighing he turned back to Torres standing in the doorway with nothing save the blanket held up preserving her modesty. "Feel free to stay in my room as long as you want. I've important business to attend to this mor-, afternoon." He corrected at the glare from Erin. "If you need anything just ask one of the residents here. The people here at Novak are rather swell. Well they are now."

Without waiting for a reply the Courier offered a shrug then vaulted the over the railing. Why? Because seriously, fuck stairs.

* * *

"Greetings courier! It is always a pleasure to see you here on the strip!" Came the mechanical voice of one of the many securitrons on the strip. The aforementioned lazily waved back at the now beaming securitron, judging by how it pumped out it's metal chassis. Or rather it's face. As in the center of said chassis is a screen that shown a cartoonish grizzled solder. It's face. Screen. Same thing right?

"You know, every time you're here their efficiency seems to improve." Erin spoke from his side as they made their way to the Lucky 38. He glanced back at the securitrons which seemed to have started moving quicker about their tasks. The Courier just shrugged and simply accepted it.

"Who all made it?" He absently asked his 'secretary' as they drew near the tall casino. The whole thing resembled a slim tower covered in flashing lights and signs that read "Lucky 38". Actually resembled one of the old world gambling stations. The center long piece that is, the name really slipped his mind.

Anyways, it's call to fame wasn't fine hookers or sophisticated food, but rather, those that lived within. First _The_ Mr. House, but now _The_ Courier. Erin glanced at him for a moment then sighed, unconsciously brushing back a few strands of her long brown hair. She wore the rest in a neat and clean pony tail. Which was unheard of for most other people. The world was dirty in more ways than just one, yet she somehow managed to not only get clean but stay that way. He liked that about her.

"Other than you? Nearly everyone. The Three Families, Brotherhood, and a Great Khan. As well as reps from all the settlements in the Mojave. Though the boomers said they couldn't make it, Pearl said she would accept anything you decide. Also as you pretty much own Novak, they requested that you represent their interests." Erin said as she opened the doors to the Lucky 38 for him.

Nodding his thanks the Courier stepped though into his home or base of operations more accurately. The dim lights inside illuminated a floor covered in thick red carpet and rows of gambling machines. Each with a layer of dust from disuse.

To his immediate left and right stood two more securitrons and across from them stood another pair. Though the other pair before him were stationed in front of the central and only elevator. Taking a breath he instantly regretted due to the amount of free floating dust in the ever lifeless room; he started to cough his lungs out towards the elevator. He practically stumbled to the elevator and pretty much tripped up the short staircase leading to it. Through bleary eyes he hit the button and entered the small space. Thankfully though, he was saved from trying to make out the buttons inside by Erin. She looked at him and sighed. Immediately after she started coughing too. That's what she gets for her near constant sighing.

"What a *cough* sight we *cough* are." The Courier said with as much mirth as he could manage, which was more than a little. She replied with a hard punch to his ribs. He grinned as he pulled himself together and straightened his dirty white shirt. She too quickly recuperated and straightened her own clothing. A black skirt and white blouse.

The elevator dinged and the courier walked out into his presidential suite. Ignoring everything else He went straight across the hall into his room and began to undress.

"What do you think would be best?" He asked while placing his neatly folded shirt on a drawer. Erin hummed to herself thoughtfully while opening up his closet. "This is business so stick which a black suit."

Nodding his agreement, he continued to undress paying little attention as Erin, with a slightly pink face, grabbed a clean white dress shirt and black dress pants from a dresser across the room. The jingle of a belt buckle and the soft rustle of wool told him she also retrieved his favorite black, trim fit suit. A Tommy Hilfiger Charcoal Plaid Slim Fit to be exact. (He paid a hefty sum for it.)

Everyone had their vice and in this regard the Courier was no different, he had a thing for suits. And many other things but suits hit him the hardest. Sue him.

He placed his neatly folded cargo pants next to his similarly neatly folded shirt. Before he looked down on his attire laid out on his bed. He was about to dress when he noticed there was another piece of clothing. A red pair of boxer-briefs.

The Courier chuckled at Erin's thoroughness before removing his final piece of clothing. Neatly folded, he placed it by the rest before looking to a tomato red Erin.

"You can wait outside you know." Erin jumped and visibly struggled to keep her eyes with his. She opened her mouth to reply but closed it when the first thing to come out was a stutter of garbled words. Instead she nodded her head but didn't move. Shrugging he began to dress. Something he decided to make a game of. The Courier was many things, to be specific an ass and a tease were to name two. He dressed slowly and deliberately showed her little while keeping her wanting more. Her wide eyes followed his slow and deliberate movements with obvious frustration. He was handsome in a roguish, rugged sort of way and played it often to his advantage. Like now.

In the end her face matched his bright red tie very well. It looked cute on her if he were to be honest.

"Ready?" He asked with an incredibly smug grin.

"Fuck you." She shot back before hastily leading the way back to the elevator.

The short ride was a quiet and awkward one. A sharp contrast to what was awaiting them when the doors opened.

Stepping out he was meet with a barrage of arguing and yelling, hell he even heard a few straight forward threats. Sharing a look with Erin the Courier turned the corner into a maelstrom of chaos.

Pacer, The King's left or right hand or something similar was standing with a look of rage on his face as he roared across the table "That's bullshit and you know it! Now you listen here, I will sooner gut you-"

"Now that's implying you can even get close enough before I reduce you to ash for the wind to carry away. The crows won't find a morsel with you." Replied elder McNamara, of the Brotherhood Of Steel in an icy voice. He openly showed his distaste to the man.

"There is no need for such threats or violence to break out. I'm sure that-," started the large green man. In fact a Super Mutant by the name of Marcus who lead a town of similarly large green and sometime blue/purple men. A big softly really, though his anger was terrifying.

"You shut your fucking mouth Mutant! I've about had enough of your god damn voice! If it weren't for-" another person started before they too were interrupted.

"Be silent Cachino, you're a filthy coward that would rather 'your' 'Omeritan thugs' do your dirty work." Mocked the large and burly man known as Papa Khan with air quotes. His beard flared out in aggression and large amounts of manliness. The Courier nearly swooned then and there. -not really-

"Hey, hey now, smooth moves everyone. I'm sure we can all work something out without all this unnecessary chest thumping. Like, hey baby, you don't want any of this bad buis to go down?" Said Swank, head of the Chairmen, one of the three families on the strip; to Sunny Smiles.

"Don't call me baby, 'baby'." She sneered disgustedly.

More mouths opened, most were likely to further heat things. But one beat them all to it.

"Courier! Welcome back!" Veronica yelled in greeting with a beaming smile.

Everyone else promptly shut their mouths and turned to see the aforementioned standing there watching them squabble with open amusement.

Papa Khan looked joyous to see him and was likely to crush the Courier in an overly manly embrace at any moment.

Marcus' eyes bore into him as he gave the Courier a nod of respect and a strained smile. Obviously bothered that he kept most of these men and women around.

Sunny Smile gave the Courier a sunny smile. Trudy also gave one that was noticeably less sunny that also carried a look of expectation. Doc Mitchell gave a warm fatherly smile that pleased him to see.

Elder McNamara gave a tense nod then resumed his staring contest with Pacer. The King shook his head and gave a lopsided grin that could only be described as charismatic and good looking. Julie gave a blank stare that creeped him out a little/lot as it always did.

The three families all gave the confident looks that were their poker faces. Rather adept ones at that. However the Courier had learned them early and could see the subtle fear hidden deep for all of them.

Arcade Gannon gave a sheepish smile and a look of relief. While the rest of the Courier's companions who were not head of organizations or what have you, gave smiles and similar looks of relief. Though Boon just nodded. Not a smiler, that man. Or any other expression that wasn't a sneer really. Though there was a measure of relief there once. Once.

All in all, a lot of them were confident the Courier would take their sides in their petty arguments due to past associations with each group. None of them seemed to have thought that he couldn't have cared less now that the NCR and Legion were gone.

Nonetheless, he would need all of them in the coming days. Well, he would only need their compliance and one way or another he would have it.

"Sorry I'm late." The Courier said with the bright and disarming smile they all knew and each feared a little.

"Only you would be late to your own meeting." Arcade said with a wry grin, enticing few forced chuckles and more genuine from those present. Well his companions knew they had nothing to fear really.

"Already did role call, boss. You're the last to arrive." Rasped Raul, the ghoul mechanic. From his place leaning on the wall behind most everyone. Never did warm to groups of people. The Courier summed it up as a ghoul thing. Most tended to either keep to themselves or those like them.

They all were in the penthouse floor sitting around what was a long, thick rectangular table that was likely meant for dinning. He believed it to be oak but had little to go off that wasn't rotten or in a similarly trashed state. The head of said maybe oak table was, wisely empty. The Courier however was quick to take his rightful seat there.

Behind him stood Erin, ready to offer any words of advice he would need. Or stab him in the back with a pen to let him know to shut up. Though he was good with handling people in many different ways and so doubted he'd need the help. To the Courier's immediate left sat those of GoodSprings; Sunny Smile, Trudy, and Doc Mitchell, in that order. Across from them were the three families, Swank of the Chairmen, Cachino of the Omeritas, and Marjorie of the White Glove Society.

Further down next to them was The King and Pacer, representing Freeside along with Julie who represented Freeside as well as The followers. Across from them and next to the reps of GoodSprings was the Elder McNamara and Arcade. Which surprised him to no end. Perhaps both being hunted forced led them bonding over it? Something to ponder and maybe take advantage of.

Then at the end Papa Khan and Marcus both sat. Speaking of bonds, being both massive they probably bonded over deathclaw wrestling or something suitably manly. The Courier felt a pang of sadness for not being invited, even if only to watch.

"Now let's get this restarted. I've called you all here tod-" Erin poked her pin into the back of his neck; what do you know, he would need it, "three days ago. I called you all here three days ago to discuss exactly where we move from here. The NCR presence is drastically dwindled and the Legion's is nearly obliterated. Meaning we have free reign of the Mojave and all that dwell here."

Everyone looked thoughtful for a moment, sure they all knew that much already but he was just starting with something all knew in so far. "So as a result all areas previously occupied by aforementioned parties and their allies is up for grabs." That is about when they realized all the freed up land and resources left uncontested for. Now was in fact the best time for grabbings. So with that thought, the chaos from earlier paled compared to this.

Some were talking rapid hostile expansion, while others fought to keep what they already owned. This was after all the wasteland, taking what belonged to others was how you lived and how you even thrived. Heated retorts spilled across the table along with threats. Until eventually someone said something that set the topic to something entirely different.

"What if another outside force gets wind of our weakness?" Arcade asked loudly to be heard. It took a moment but eventually everyone's attention was suitably acquired. Though it was mostly from the Courier raising his hand in a silencing gesture. It was to his delight that it worked, albeit a tad slow for his tastes.

"We are not weak." The Courier said simply after everyone turned their attention to him. "Far from it in fact."

Arcade frowned and opened his mouth to say something before he caught the glint in the Courier's eye. Arcade knew that the Courier agreed with him and knew where he was coming from. He wanted Arcade to say it for the others to hear, not for himself. Arcade gave a barely perceivable nod and then turned to everyone else, something he wouldn't have done before due to his distaste of public speaking. The glint in the Courier's eye didn't seem to be asking him to speak, more of telling him to.

Gulping, Arcade made his more than a little nervous 'rebuttal.' "We ourselves may see that we are weak, but others might. A brutal war was just fought over our land and ravaged much of what we had before. Wouldn't someone else see that as a sure sign as a time to ah.. invade and plunder..?" He inwardly cursed at the lousy end but it was already said and done.

"Then we would need a show of strength! Show everyone just how tough we are! That we earned our independence and didn't just have it thrown onto our lap!" Papa Khan roared across the table while throwing up his arms and flexing massive arms. Much to the annoyance to those around him except Marcus who just seemed amused.

"Ah not to break easy with the big guy down there," Began Swank of the Tops. "But that plan doesn't exactly swing easy by me."

"He's right." Majorie, head of the White Glove society threw in, "A show of strength would work I believe, but only if we could manage it. As of now.. I believe we are lacking in terms of strength."

To not be left out, Cachino actually agreed with his two fellow Family leaders. "We ARE weak. Fucking pathetically so. Even with the NCR and Legion fucked up from fighting for so long we had trouble kicking their asses out. Fucking hell we lost a lot with trying to beat the two down too."

The Courier snorted to himself but let everyone else continue, simply content to listen. Erin herself listened intently not entirely liking where this was heading.

"I don't know about all of you but The Brotherhood took minimal losses and has already made up for it in new recruits." Elder McNamara threw in. With that everyone else soon started throwing in how 'well' off they themselves. Papa Khan boasted he had hundreds of Great Khans and just as many super mutants under his banner. All the exaggerating quickly came to an end when again the Courier raised his hand for silence.

"Bloody wonderful that is." He quipped with a wide smile when he had full attention, "Now then I hope everyone is done flexing their muscles, Erin give your report please."

Erin did as was asked and did not exactly relish the amount of attention leveled on her nor the looks of shock she received once she finished listing off everything she had written down. Over the last few weeks after their taking of Hoover Dam and the removal of unwanted forces the Courier had tasked two dozen men and women to do head counts and logistical checks on the capabilities of everyone in the Mojave. The numbers themselves did not give Erin much confidence in their ability to hold off against a large opposing force.

The results were rather grim to say the least. Those gathered who had earlier so puffed up their own abilities had their true weaknesses shown to everyone there. An awkward silence descended, one that the Courier let sit for a moment before breaking it. Well he almost did until someone beat him.

"The NCR," someone whispered to themselves as if reaching a conclusion. One they had overlooked due to it being so outrageous. Heads turned to the one who uttered it, and to everyone's surprise it was McNamara.

"You what?" asked Papa Khan in confusion.

"The NCR is the answer to this problem." McNamara said with no small amount of bitterness. Though under the bitterness was a touch of respect.

"Baby, that just reeks of a bad idea," Swank said with heavy skepticism and caution.

Caution which no one else save the Three Families and Erin picked up on and shared.

"The NCR defeated us at Helios One solely for their ability to throw waves and waves of troops at us. They have the man power and resources in abundance, both of which we desperately need." McNamara continued in his defense. Everyone knew about the B.O.S defeat at Helios One and it's details. A few nodded their heads slowly in realization.

"That's implying they would agree to supply it to someone who very recently kicked them out of a resource they wanted desperately. One they threw a lot of time, caps and effort into. It would be better and save time to just work on other options." Marjorie said deliberately and slowly hoping to quickly put an end to the topic. She failed in her hope.

"They have excess man power and resources among other things we need to properly establish ourselves and recuperate. We have a very large amount of caps sitting around with nothing worthwhile to throw them into and more power than what we know what to do with. Caps and power the NCR desperately needs after throwing so much at the dam. I think we can work something out easily." Doc Mitchell said reminding everyone he was there while nodding sagely to himself.

The others started to join in agreement as well while the Three Families looked at each other nervously. Swank was about to make another objection but before he could, the cause of such nervousness became quite clear to everyone. The Courier slammed his fist down on the table hard, causing those to flinch at the loud crack.

"No." He stated simply with a tight and strained smile on his face before continuing. "Now all of you know that we are just as weak as some would guess. Our best chance now is to cease these petty squabbles between one another. We can either die alone or strive together. It's entirely up to you all. I do however hope you will not allow your differences with those here be the death of all those under you and also that you don't make a foolish choice that would see us revisiting what we fought so hard to gain independence of. Merging together is the only choice really. No need to invite outside help when we are perfectly suited to grow on our own and fend for ourselves." He leaned back as much as he could in the old chair and watched them like a hawk.

Few showed signs of resignation while most showed grim determination. The Mojave had a way of killing off the weak and leaving the strong and determined. Though that usually led to them doing what the Mojave couldn't and finishing the job or rather, each other.

"Now while that may work, it would surely limit us with how little we currently have. We simply don't have the means to reach where we want in any short time-line. Plus with the NCR option we might be able to get relations well enough that we don't have to worry about them retaliating while otherwise we do." Doc Mitchell defended when no one else stepped up.

The Courier for his part remained outwardly calm. But inside, he was hurt from the Doc's disagreement. He genuinely felt betrayed and burned from it. His already tight smile strained further, "We can simply trade for what we need from the surrounding regions. We don't need to NCR to get back on our feet. We did after all just beat not only them but also the Legion back with what we had at the time. Does everyone agree with this proposal?" There was definitely an edge to his voice now. An undercurrent of something that promised harm and brought fear.

"You're not thinking about this reasonably, just list-" Doc Mitchell bravely tried to protest but was cut off by the Courier slamming his fist into the thick oak table, sending splinters and fragments of wood in all directions.

"Do not patronize me old man," he snarled across the table. The once jovial and cheerful Courier that earned the hearts and respect of many gone and dead. Replace now with something primal and frankly terrifying.

"I will not allow anyone else to try to claim this damned wasteland! This is my Mojave. Mine! I have bled for every _dammed_ inch and killed _hundreds_ of _men_, _women_, and _children_ to claim this blasted pisshole. I have butchered my way through a centuria (80 man group lead by a Centurion) of legionnaires to wrap my claws around the throat of the so proclaimed 'Tyrant of the East' and I found him wanting. I bashed and crashed my way through swarms of securitrons to tear House from my throne. I tore Caesar's beating heart out while his Praetoian 'elite guard' bled at his feet. I bathed Dry Wells in nuclear flame leaving naught by ash and shed not a tear. I butchered my way through ranger and centurion alike at the bridge. Nothing will stop me from preserving what is mine.

This is my Majove. Nothing will change that, I will take care of anything that threatens it. No NRC, and no Legion is needed."

A deafening silence fell over the meeting. No one dared break it as the Courier meet each of their eyes searching for someone to try to protest. No one dared speak. No one could. They had all heard of the Courier's exploits, heroic or otherwise. But to hear him speak of it in such a way as that he had more horrors to give scared them. In a world where life was hell and death was a constant, where most had taken a life before reaching twenty in order to survive, he could be something worse than it all. That in itself was an incredible feat. The room was silent. Until..

Finally one did dare speak.

Doc Mitchell chuckled softly to himself, earning a glare from the Courier that could flay a giant gecko. "Remember a month after you'd been dug up, when you barged into my house and asked if you could borrow some of my medicinal supplies?" Mitchell asked with a fond smile. The Courier for his part was completely thrown off and didn't know how to respond. Another incredible feat in so short a time.

"When you asked me for that, for some reason I had the idea going on that you had finally lost it and had turned to chems. That's why I didn't just give them to you, you know." A ghost of a smile passed on the Courier's face as Mitchell continued on. "Well for those of you that don't know, this was nearly two years ago. So anyways instead of giving it to him or questioning him on it for fear of him freaking out; you know how addicts get when you ask them about such things. Well anyways instead I just gestured for him to show the way."

By this point the kind old man had every one's rapt attention with his little retelling, and by now the Courier grinned sheepishly and listened as well.

"For what seems like an hour we trekked through the desert, it was a cold night that. One I thought I'd freeze to death on. But mostly I was wondering what possessed me to follow him into the middle of the desert while the stars shone brightly. Heck, I thought he was on drugs and I still followed him out there. Do you know why?" The question seemed to throw many of them off, rapt as they were in the story. They turned and looked to the Courier at his end of the table with only a small amount of worry. What they saw was an openly sheepish looking man who just shrugged his shoulders and said "no" in a voice so soft as to be barely heard. Looking at the sheepish teen now, it was hard to imagine the things he had done.

Doc Mitchell chuckled again and said, "It was because I trusted you. Even as deranged and out there as I thought you were, I still trusted you and so I followed you. But boy was I relived when we arrived at a small cave nearby. In it I saw a Coyote and her pups nearby. The mother wasn't looking to good, wouldn't have lasted past the night which would've been the end for the pups, too young to eat anything but the mother's milk. In the end, even though I don't usually work with animals she was back to her healthy self.

What I'm trying to show you here is that you aren't that monster you believe yourself to be. You have a kind heart and have shown it more than once. I trust you but you need to trust me here as well. If it were only a matter of war I wouldn't talk about bringing back the NCR, but it isn't. They have things we might soon be desperately needing. Trust us please." Mitchell spoke softly and kindly as ever but for once he was pleading.

Sighing the Courier shook his head slowly and ran his hand through his hair. At first those there thought he was denying the kind old man, that is, until he started to laugh. His head reared back as he roared with laughter. Everyone at the table glanced back and forth and shifted uncomfortably until, eventually, the Courier settled down somewhat.

"Fine." The Courier said through eyes bleary with laughter, "Fine, fine! Hah! I'll listen. Alright, I'll gather some gear and head out immediately, if we're going to do this, we're doing it right. I'll be going in person. You are right." He said apologetically, regret written in his eyes. For anyone else, he wouldn't have agreed so quickly. But he had a weak spot for the Doc, the Courier owed him a lot. His kindness was what stayed his hand on many occasions when killing would have been the easier thing to do.

The doc simply chuckled as well, standing and walking over to the Courier who also stood before embraced each other warmly, "thank you." Mitchell said when they broke apart.

"No, thank you. I believe I've been on the war path for too long time. To peaceful times!" He roared to everyone who echoed it back, though less enthusiastically, confused at how fast things were going by. Papa Khan though was unfazed mostly and gave a booming cheer. The man could be the jolliest Santa ever. Just needed to turn grey.

"I'll go down and pack and after I'll come back up and we'll have to have a proper toast and celebrations!" A much more resounding cheer echoed back to him as he and Erin were back in the elevator. The doors closed as discussions began again, though far more peacefully. The idea to come together was still a but touchy but overall, most saw the benefits of it. Doc Mitchell lead the talks now it seemed.

"I love that old man." The Courier suddenly said as he pressed the button to his own personal suite.

Erin looked to the Courier with a raised eyebrow, enticing a small chuckle from him. "Took me in, fixed me, fed me, clothed me and everything while asking nothing in return. He treated me like a son really and I found myself visiting often. Always supported me even when some of the things I did didn't exactly sit well with him. Like he said, he's always trusted me. It's about time I returned the favor really. And before you ask, yeah, that's exactly why I switched over so quickly."

Erin listened to his short explanation with a smile, it was rare for her to see anything so genuine with him. He had hired her a month and a half back but she felt that she never saw him as truly as she did now. But something nagged at her, something told her to pay more attention.

"So he was like a father to you?" She asked as they neared the desired floor. He seemed to consider it a moment before nodding. "What about your real father?"

As soon as the words left her lips the elevator became far too small for her. She felt like screaming and crying out but was frozen. She wanted nothing more than to be as far away as possible from the other _thing_ in the elevator with her. It was like his outburst from earlier but infinitely worse. He hadn't even done anything, she just felt it.

"He's dead." He said in his normal chipper voice. But something horrible felt off about it, something disgusting and horrifying. "o-oh. H-h-how did he.. he die?" she felt herself ask. Why did she ask that? Why? Why? Why? Why?!

"I killed him."

And just like that the doors opened and he stepped out without another word. All the feelings from earlier vanished without a trace. Could she have been imagining things she wondered? Taking a moment to take a breath she followed in after him.

"What will you be taking with you?" She asked aloud, her voice came out as a whisper that she fought to strengthen next time she talk. What was going on?

"Everything of course." His impeccable suit and tie disappeared as an amber light cascaded down it. In an instant it vanished and was replaced with his signature courier outfit. A thick, long sleeved, faded blue shirt under a sleeveless, dirty, thick brown duster appeared in it's place. The duster was covered in individual pieces of riot armor and straps holding pouches. On the center of the back of his duster, a large blue circle outlined with a dozen or so small stars held was painted, in the center was another larger star. From under the starry circle, several red streaks ran down to his waist. For pants he's wearing simple cargo pants with more riot armor strapped to his shins, knees and thighs. At his side rested a 44. magnum. All in all, he fit the western Courier stereotype very well.

He must've thought so too as he materialized on a cowboy hat. He grinned at his reflection as he went about atomizing his weapons and armor he pulled from various chests and dressers. Guns, ammo, random melee weapons, armor, medicine, spare parts, spare clothes and other oddities all went into his Pipboy, how much he could carry, she never knew. But after seeing him empty pretty much empty his room, Erin knew the answer was _a lot._

"Well that seems to be everything. While I'm gone you're in charge, I've already told yes-man that you will be so he'll- I mean it will. It will help if you ask probably." He said as they walked back into the elevator. "Wait shit, I forgot my favorite pen!"

Erin chuckled, perhaps earlier had just been her imagination? Or just stress? It had been a rather long and stressful last few weeks. She sighed and stepped out of the elevator before he could. "Hold the door, I got it."

"It's the red one!" He shouted after her, she nodded absently and turned back to give him the finger, but as it were, that's when her world filled with roaring fire.

An explosion rocked the tower, originating from somewhere in the elevator shaft. Whatever the case, one second the Courier was there smiling and laughing, the next he disappeared in an almighty, world shaking conflagration.


	2. Chapter 1: Greetings and Confusion

**A/N: Second chapter of No White Knights. From reading the first chapter you probably could've guessed by now that the version of the Courier that im aiming for isn't the naive _white knight_ he is in other stories, nor the mad and raving, evil-bad guy. That's actually what inspired me to write this, that and that I've always loved Fallout crossovers and RWBY seemed fun and totally outlandish compared to the Fallout verse. Anyways, no one enjoys reading these so back into the story.**

**P.S This small chapter along with the first have been pre-written two months ago so, expect quality to hopefully improve but also sadly for updates to take some time.**

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Chapter 1: _Greetings and Confusion_

_**Boom**_.

The monstrous retort of the Courier's shotgun echoed out into the forest, muffling the heavy thump of the falling black beast. He'd awoken just moments ago to that very same monster's salivating jaws opening to his neck. The difference now is it's very lack of said jaws.

He thumbed in another explosive shell before he dematerialized _Dinner Bell _and looked back towards the fallen thing. _Thats new, _he thought. Looking up from the freshly made corpse, his hard eyes looked around in sheer disbelief.

All around him thick, healthy and green trees reached into the sky, stretching out to nearly block it out with red leaves. Below him densely packed, green and tall grass grew to just above his ankles. He'd almost thought he died and went on to heaven but for the dead beast and his own whole unworthiness to enter such a holy place. Not that he personally held much belief in higher powers. Still, he'd almost had the thought.

"Just where the hell am I?" He pondered aloud as he often did when alone. During many of his lonesome travels upon countless different roads he'd taken to talking to himself. Whether that robbed his sanity or preserved was absolutely dependent on the day.

The Courier tried to think about what happened, what he could remembered, but found he couldn't concentrate on it. Too distracting was everything around him and too blurry his memory. That and he'd really rather not know what events lead up to him being there. Something's are better left unknown. Like that time he woke up in the embrace of a Yao Guai mother and her kids. Fun as the previous night was, at some point horrible things happened best left unspoken and unthought. He'd always miss that drinking buddy. The filthy fuck. Dammit he was thinking about it, back to the present. Nothing like the present. Nothing at all. Oh, he was naked.

He looked down at his bareness in horrified confusion. How he'd gotten that way was a mystery much better left unsolved, especially after remembering something so scarring. Dammit, he was thinking of it again. Bringing up his Pit-Boy, he quickly equipped his duster, boots and pants. No more nakedness, no more worries. Except for where he was exactly.

The air carried the scent of flowers and sap, along with gore and shit from the dead thing beside him. He payed it little mind as he found himself captivated by this totally new world. The sounds of life were everything to his well-practiced hearing. He could hear the gentle breeze rustle leaves and brushing through grass. A strange high pitched chirping that came from overhead and the sound of a stream nearby.

Then he became aware of another sound. The familiar sounds of insects, though sounding more numerous and smaller. The courier snapped himself from his sight seeing as the memory of a certain overgrown vault came to mind. Too much was similar here to that hell hole. He'd proceed with caution, he couldn't afford to be lulled in again.

Looking over to the black beast he become aware of how... alien it was. The Courier had seen his fair share of wild life before, been hunted by the majority of it too and vice-versa. But this matched nothing he knew.

It resembled a Yao Guai in body but that was where the resemblance ended.

"No patchy fur or bloody and cancerous flesh." He said softy as he kneeled next to it. The strangest thing about it though was the white bone face it seemed to have, bloody and broken though it was. The Courier could still see twin red eyes that radiated hate even in death. Looking at the claws an idea came to mind. Not so much an idea as a necessity everyone in the wasteland did.

Waste not, want not.

He pulled a Bowie knife from his belt that he kept physical and began to skin it. The thick black fur would be warm, that is if he could've actually got it.

Before his very eyes the body began to rapidly rot and dissipate into nothing. Fur, skin, muscle, bone and all until nothing but an indention in the grass remained. Even every last drop of spilled blood was gone.

"Perhaps this is an after life. A hunters paradise and hell combined. No trophies yet many beasts to hunt." He thought on that strange logic for a moment before something ground shaking occurred to him, "I'm not a fucking hunter. Though I mean sure, I have out of necessity and occasional joy but I seriously wouldn't consider myself a zealous one. Man Hunter though? Maybe, sure."

The Courier continued to ponder the line of thought as he sheathed his knife and began to trek towards the water source he heard and smelt up ahead. Occasionally he'd freeze and go prone and listen to his surroundings. Never knew what could be stalking the shadows. After exactly eleven minutes (thanks Pipboy) he made it to the stream.

Being quick and quiet he refilled his canteen and a few other canisters. Water meant life as well as the wild variety. In his experience, wild life meant fight for his life. So with that in mind, after getting his fill he deftly made his escape.

He headed North and didn't stop. To stop meant bad things happened. Maybe just in his experience, but stopping usually meant things could catch up. Such as whatever it was hunting him currently.

It's been an hour since he noticed and mentally berated himself for being so careless. So with little other options he picked up his pace and marched forward through dense underbrush. His plan was to lose it, and if that didn't happen then to find a good place to confront whatever it was hunting him. The Courier profusely hopped it wasn't a Death claw let along a whole pack of them. Though he felt he had little to worry about from them.

He'd seen many Masks (as he'd taken to calling them) but few of the beasties that he recognized and respected. He couldn't help but feel a Death claw would love it here though. Plenty of ambush places. The idea of a pack of Death Claws running around happily killing everything and making the land theirs made him grin happily. Though he learned to respect them and there ability to absolutely tear everything up, he adored the things. Hell he was working on raising one actually, he named it 'rawr' after one he found in the Divide. He actually had-

He was getting off topic in his thoughts again.

The Courier's path suddenly opened up into a circular clearing bathed in sunlight. Almost seeming alien to the dark shadow cast by the forest's canopy just behind him. It was about as large as a pre-war football stadium, which would suit him well for what he had in store for the poor fuck hunting him.

* * *

A massive black snake silently slithered through the brush into the clearing. Coating it's black scaled body was a bright red diamond pattern. More eye catching than that were the bones that covered it. Most resembled large, sharp looking spikes even from his distance. Raising itself high, it flicked out it's tongue and tasted the air. From his place concealed under a blanket of leaves in the tree line, the Courier silently gapped at it. The thing was massive! He'd guess it was over forty meters long and that was his guess from his distance.

It narrowed it's eyes and lowered itself before it continued through the clearing, obviously following the Courier's scent. It slithered quickly flicking out it's tongue as it went, clearly feeling itself drawing close to what it thought was it's prey. Oh, how right and wrong it was.

It reached the center of the clearing before it paused and brought it's massive head to a patch of freshly turned dirt. It flicked out it's tongue and narrowed it's eyes suspiciously. Using the tip of it's nose it scrapped some of the loose dirt before hearing a click. The snake managed a hiss before an bright explosion engulfed it's head.

The Courier growled as he threw off his camo and brought out his gauss rifle. He didn't realize the thing would be so large or he'd have used more dynamite and his other more wonderful explosives. Maybe a mini nuke. As currently it shook it's head from the dirt cloud and let out it's equivalent of a snarl. A snarl that turned into a hiss of pain as a blast from the Courier's rifle blew a frighteningly long fang from it's mouth.

The Courier took a knee as he deftly reloaded and fired again into it's side, blowing a bloody chunk away. It did little but piss it off further. It 'snarled' again as it shot after him.

Cursing the Courier turned and ran back to the wood line, atomizing his rifle as he ran. Though he hadn't moved too far from the woodline, the Masked snake was incredibly fast and he barely had time to trigger the second trap.

As he ran through the brush he pulled his knife and slashed through a rope holding a upward bent branch that shook with tension. Said branch had three knife spears tapped to it and a few more sharp bits he had decided to use. With the rope holding it at bay cut, the branch with the spears swung downward faster than most eyes could track, straight into the face of snake. Two spear shattered into splinters and shrapnel, most of the knives and other sharp bits blunted or also met a similar fate.

However, one spear struck true, right into the eye of the beasty. Half-blinding it, but at a cost.

This time it _hurt_. It _screamed_ as it continued towards the Courier in a blind rage spear ripped from it's place and likely sending an avalanche of mind numbing pain through the creature.

Not giving the thing a moment, the Courier atomized Oh Baby! Into his hands and leapt to meet it. It's remaining eye glared at him with such utter hatred he laughed. He laughed mirthlessly and returned it with one of his own, the same one he'd given to the hundred's that have gotten in his way. The same one that was the last thing many saw before being meeting a grisly fate.

And in the face of such a hateful monster...

The hopeless snake flinched.

Taking that opening presented to him, he snarled and swung the super sledge in a downwards arc. The hammer slammed into the monster's Mask with a thunderous impact, forcing it's mouth closed and ending it's charge into a thick tree it carved a trench to. Nearly up rooting the damn thing too.

The Courier didn't relent there, he'd learned quickly that relenting could easily get you killed. He pressed for the killing blow. Preparing a powerful swing aimed for the spear still lodged in it's eye, he pulled Oh Baby! back. He felt his Pipboy trigger VATS as fresh adrenaline and a cocktail of other chems flooded his veins. His muscles burned as bodily restrictions became irrelevant and were overcome. His brain fired as it went into overdrive, slowing everything to his enhanced senses.

"Get. Fucked!" He roared with a hateful smile.

Like a super mutant hammering a nail with a super sledge, the poor snake experienced the same. The nail, or rather the spear was sent straight through it's eye and shot out the other side in a spray of brain matter and gore. The spear continued before quickly coming to a stop in a nearby tree, still dripping red. The snake's body fell still as it's life ended.

With the fight over, the Courier fell to a knee. His muscles burned and a throbbing stole his mind. It only took a heartbeat to collect himself, having become used to the after effects of VATS in action countless times before. He looked at the snake in pity and began to retrace his spear when he heard an excited voice behind him.

"That was awesome!"

Drawing his magnum from his hip in the blink of an eye he turned to face...

A pale young girl..?

"Woah there! Ah.. I was just ah.. Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." The young girl said bowing her head fast enough to give the Courier minor whiplash just from watching. She smelt of roses this one. Fitting, considering her rather red and rosy themed outfit. A, what looked to be black corset with a matching skirt with red trimmings and lace. She wore a red hood over it all. Red Ridding Hood came to mind. _Well, we are in a forest._ He thought dryly to himself.

What stood out more than her bizarre choice of attire was the boxy looking weapon on her lower back. He knew it was a weapon because of the magazines on her belt and the one inserted in the contraption, and the scope. Also the bolt and casing ejection slot was a dead give away.

"Anyways, what are you all doing out here?" The Courier interrupted smiling lightly and lowering his gun to the side. He didn't yet holster it. Anything this corny shouldn't be trusted. Then again even in a normal situation he wouldn't trust any person he'd just met. Wasteland hospitality and all.

She paused mid headbang/bow and looked at him with confusion evident in her flint grey eyes. "You all..?" In reply the Courier motioned around him. While certainly the young, clean and oddly dressed red head in front of him held his eyes, his nose and ears had already caught the three others around him. He could smell their sweat and their flowery scents. He could hear them breath, the pounding of their hearts and the displacement of the environment around him. Two of them moved loudly. "You're friends surrounding me I mean."

Red head bite her lip for a moment in thought before sighing explosively. "Come on out guys. He knows."

What was more odd than the girl in front of him? Three more like her around him.

To his left was a bodacious blond who seemed to wear a perpetual cocky grin on her pale face. About as pale as the red head. What stuck out most was her purple eyes. Purple. Huh. Anyways, they raged with fierce confidence, and deeper in was a turmoil of confusion. She wore a brown short sleeved jacket that left her fit stomach exposed, a yellow undershirt poked up from the top of her jacket, keeping her chest modest. The left side of her shirt over her breast was a flaming heart.

Lower she wore black shorts with a brown belt with a buckle and pouch. A brown half skirt went from hip, around her backside to hip. She must've been cold exposing that much leg. Though it was warm in the forest.

To his right was a Snow White obviously. She was garbed in fancy white clothing. A lovely snow themed dress with a red interior, white exterior jacket over it. She wore her silver hair in a side pony tail held there with a snowflake looking pin(?). Light blue eyes looked on in determination and something else.

Oh. The Courier recognized this.

She was looking down her nose at him. Lovely, a bitch.

He resisted the urge to sigh and turned his head somewhat to glimpse the shadow behind him.

The near exact opposite from the icy bitch really.

She wore a black buttoned vest with coattails and a white, sleeveless undershirt that exposed part of her midriff with white shorts that could've been connected to her shirt. Her long wavy black hair trailed down her back while a black bow sat on her head giving her the illusion of cat ears. An illusion enhanced by her amber eyes and semi feline stance and silence. She screamed edgy. Hell, just glancing into her eyes he saw a sob story hidden in, everything about her reflected it, making it hardly hidden.

By the time he turned his eyes back to Red Head his heart had beat three times. In that time he saw all that and one worrying similarity. They were all armed. Blondy seemed to have two sleek, black and gold themed ballistic fists. Ice bitch had a toothpick or accurately called a rapier with a weird rainbow system on it's guard. Edge Queen had ribbons.

Well ribbons attached to boxy, rectangular guns. Either way, they all had their weapons in hand and were tense. He could smell their adrenaline from where he was in the center. If he didn't play his cards right he might just kill four kids in a bloody and brutal fashion. A shame that would be really.

"Now that everyone's out in the open, why're you here exactly?" The Courier repeated gently.

"A better question would be why _you're _here." Snarked the bitch. Christ. That's the million dollar question wasn't it? One he'd asked himself quite a few times in the past few moments of this ambush.

He was saved from answering by Red Head. "We were on a mission to hunt and exterminate a large King Taijitu that's been seen near the border." She said proudly.

"And it seems you've already taken care of half the job for us!" Blondy pipes up with clear delight.

"Half?" The Courier starts before an explosion followed back a familiar shriek resounds behind him. Turning quickly, he looked back in the direction it came from while the girls lower themselves into their respective defensive stances.

"What was that?" One of them asked, he was to busy scanning the damnably thick foliage. He'd set four traps in preparation, he hadn't thought he needed it but he lived by the 'better safe than sorry' rule. Seeing as two were already used, and out of the two left only one was explosive, he had a good idea where the bastard was. The idea of two things hunting him shamefully never came to mind. He'd been in the Strip for too long. He had started to become _civilized._ That didn't sit well with him at all.

"It's one of the traps I set, it's about 80 meters back that way." The Courier nodded in the direction while flexing his fingers. The idea of facing another one of those things up close without an unfair advantage to him didn't sit well. He scanned his surroundings trying to come up with something, but was too late.

Out of the green foliage another massive snake burst through in an obvious rage. It was an inverse of the first, white where the other was black. It's mask was singed and it was missing a few scales near it's face. The Courier felt a little joy at causing the thing such irritation before he'd die.

He'd give it a hell of a bit more too before he kicked it.

He brought his magnum up and rapidly fired off all six shots, blowing small bloody holes into it's neck. It hissed in annoyance before a yellow fist to the jaw followed by a _**bang **_sent it's head careening into a tree.

The Courier for his part only dropped his jaw.

Blondy fell back to the earth from her mighty leap and gave a wink, "don't worry, we got this one. Just sit back and relax!" For his part, he nodded back numbly and reloaded. Where'd he put Oh Baby! again?

He heard a slight hum of energy and looked back to see something utterly new that would prove world breaking in the coming days. In front of the Ice Bitch something had appeared. It was a circle with many weird.. Sigils inside. A ward he realized, or a glyph depending on which prewar fantasy comic/book you read. The white haired girl thrust her rapier through it and it flashed for a moment before what sounded like heavy frozen wind erupted back at the snake. Turning once more, the Courier saw the white snake's head _frozen _to the tree in a jagged cluster of ice.

The rest of the fight, if it could even be called that, ended quickly. The Red Head's gun contraption _unfolded_ and turned out to be a massive sniper _scythe_, which she spun and used in a way that made him question the world as he knew it. She was _good. _The edge cat also turned out to be able to use some sort of shadow doppler ganger that was used to great effect to confuse and misdirect the massive snake.

Another thing? They all seemed to be absurdly gifted acrobats. Very strong ones at that. Very quickly was the snake headless and very, _very_ dead.

In the Mojave, the Courier had seen many, many odd and incredible things. This was just under the time he talked to his own _brain_ which turned out to be a total cunt. Not surprising but still, the whole experience unnerved him and made him question a lot of everything. But he's always adapted and overcame near instantly, that's why he became as feared and respected as he did. But this time he just had trouble comprehending and just stared dumbly at the four girls high fiving around the 'King Taijitu' as they called it. Well Blondy and Red Head did. Bitch was rolling her eyes at the whole thing like it was bloody normal. Edgy Ninja just stared back at him.

She coughed politely and everyone seemed to remember he was there. He amazingly able to recompose himself as the rest of the group turned back towards him.

"Uh. Good job?" The Courier said searchingly.

Red Head tilted her head to the side frowning before coming to a realization. "Oh! Uh my name is Ruby Rose, this is my sister Yang," blondy smiled wider and threw up a peace sign in greeting. "Yo!"

"Uh that's Blake Belladonna over there." Ruby said pointing to the Cat Ninja Edge who again just stared. "Right." The Courier said awkwardly. He was usually so much better with people, but after seeing what they could do, he was nervous. He hadn't been nervous in a long time. "And the Princess over there is Wiess Schnee."

Wiess just 'humphed' and turned her head sharply muttering 'dirty vagrant' under her breath. The Courier would've challenge her for her words or at least confront her under normal circumstances but he'd rather not lose an eye or his life. He only had one of those after all.

"Don't worry about her, she's always been a sour puss." Yang says with a big goofy smile.

"Am not!" Wiess snaps back indignantly. Jesus, they were still kids.

"Who're you?" Blake directs toward him, interrupting the two suddenly. Honestly, he was happier when they were arguing and were not so focused on him. So, with all eyes on him, he can only say aloud what he's been thinking all along.

"I'm a very lost man." Comes his immediate reply.

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**As I said, shorter Chapter. Please leave a review on what the ideal length of Chapters should be, otherwise I'll likely keep doing what im doing and having some shorter and some longer.**


	3. Chapter 2: Confusion and Realization

**A/N: So I've decided to have chapters anywhere from 4 to 7 thousands words apiece. If that is too short let me know and I'll figure something out that is more accommodating. Onto other news, the next chapter will take even longer to produce then this one, there are multiple reasons for this. For one, I have no idea where I want this FF to go. No real goals so far and I have nothing planned out in advance. As I said earlier, this was mostly a stab at those that write stories with an unrealistically white-knight Courier/Lone Wanderer. But do not think that I'll stop updating even though this was only the manifestation of some frustration, I've started this so I at least have to see where this will lead. Which may be into a shitty story due to the next part.**

** The next reason, the creator of the RWBY series died very recently, about two days ago from when I am writing this I believe. I am not sure what plans are concerning the story of RWBY now nor if it is even possible for them to continue it without him. So I'll keep an ear out, if it turns out that there will be no continuation or that they announce that they do not know where Monty had the series headed, then I'll have to figure something out for myself. Which will take time.**

** TL;DR**

** The next chapter will take more time to write. For I do not know where I want it to go. It may take much more time to continue if the canon series ends due to the tragic death of Monty. If they do not continue the story, then I will have to make up my own end and such. Which may take a lot of time to brain-storm it all out.**

**Regardless of what happens, I'll try to keep things rolling. When the next chapter does comes out then things should really get set rolling as by that time I will know where I want to go.**

**Side-note: Leave reviews, I have a gross fetish for them and become sickeningly happy when I see any. Fuel my fetish, please. You don't even have to be nice about it. Anyways, enough begging, here take a chapter I procrastinated heavily on.**

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Chapter 2: Confusion and Realization

Along the path back to Beacon they walked with Ruby leading the way. Her mission to exterminate the King Taijitu had not turned out exactly how she expected it to at all. At first when Ozpin had given Ruby and her team the mission she had felt ecstatic! Their first mission together as a team! Well their first official mission anyways. She had had a lot of ideas of how it would turn out as they trekked out to find the Grimm. While it had been a resounding success like she knew it would, she never imagined what they'd see when they arrived.

So Ruby was incredibly surprised to see a man with a huge, rusty hammer fighting half of the Grimm. Speaking of which, where did he stash it? Ruby looked back and couldn't see it anywhere on him. Huh.

Anyways, she wanted to go help him but by the time they got there, he'd already killed it and seeing him fight so viciously had made her a bit worried honestly. She told Yang, Blake and Wiess to hide, and they did. Just not in the way that she meant. They hide around the stranger in an ambush. But somehow the man caught them and then the other half of the Taijitu exploded and then came charging through the foliage to them. Really it saved a lot of awkwardness, so go King Taijitu!

After the second part of the Grimm attacked them, team RWBY took it out while the stranger stayed back at Yang's word. It was their mission after all and he just seemed a little out of his element. Fighting Grimm was a hard task after all, that's why it was usually left to the highly trained hunters and huntresses. That he even managed to kill one was incredible. One like the one that he had was just really impressive since he lacked the training and know how.

Finishing that and after introductions.. Hey! He avoided giving his name! Ruby glared back at him, but then thought against it. She could ask later when they arrived. Anyways, after introductions they found out he was really lost and decided to show him to Ozpin, Ruby thought she should introduce them and explain. Ozpin usually knew what to do.

So now here they all were, walking back to beacon.

"So this 'Beacon'," the stranger started, "what exactly is it?"

Ruby glanced back at the man and really took in his appearance for the first time since their meeting. She never really had the time to before what with fighting the other half of the King Taijitu and all. But now that she did, Ruby could see why Wiess looked down on him. At least why Wiess did, Ruby just felt bad for him, and even a little curious.

He was tall, she'd guess standing a little under six feet and dressed in dirty, stained clothes that just smelled awful, even from where she was ahead of the group. The pieces of armor he did have seemed uselessly light and battle scarred, overall he looked totally worn and ragged. His dark brown hair was a matted mess that he used his gloved fingers to sweep back from his face. Speaking of which, his face was covered in dirt and stubble, almost obscuring his strong features. The most eye catching part about him was, well, his own eyes. Amber orbs that kept darting everywhere and didn't ever seem to slow or sit still, filled with life, defiance and an edge of something else she didn't quite recognize. Something intelligent and primal that sent a shiver through her. Ruby was usually alright at guessing people through appearance, but with him she had no clue.

"It's an academy used to train future hunters and huntresses to protect Vale from the Grimm that roam all of Remnant." Blake informed him while Ruby was occupied observing him.

"And you all attend there?" He asked casually, meeting her eyes. Ruby blinked and looked away sheepishly while he just grinned disarmingly.

"Yup! It's pretty rad." Yang said throwing her arm around Ruby. "That makes us kinda awesome."

The guy just 'huhed' to himself and kept following the path as it became more and more neat and clean. They were getting pretty close to civilization. The jungle had already thinned out drastically, the sun overhead shown brightly, not affecting the stranger in the least. Maybe he had a lot of sun from where he was?

"So hey, what was your name? I, uh didn't get it earlier." Ruby suddenly asked while playfully pushing herself out of Yang's grasp. It felt like a good time to finally ask again. Yang just laughed and let go, letting an unfortunate Ruby fall dramatically to the ground. Causing the former to laugh all the harder. Her other two teammates chuckled and huffed, it's pretty explanatory which did what.

Grumbling Ruby made to get up, but a hand stopped her efforts. "It appears we've arrived." The stranger said with a grin. She took his hand and allowed him to hoist her up. "Name." Ruby continued stubbornly.

He just continued walking and began to hum to himself as if he hadn't heard her. Before Ruby could ask again he just shrugged. "I'll tell you next time. I'm sure I'll see you all again. But for now could you show me to this 'Ospin'?"

When the Courier said he was sure he'd see them again, he was lying out of his arse. He surely hoped he wouldn't see that odd bunch again. They were far too strong and ridiculous for his tastes. Though apparently from what he heard from them, they actually weren't that great compared to the more senior students here at Beacon. Then there were to even stronger fully fledged hunters and huntresses. This place was just ridiculous. But for now, he needed to talk to this 'Ozpin' and get some answers, which was the only reason he suggested them talking him to Beacon to begin with.

Now the place, this 'Beacon' was a very neat and clean academy with very impressive architecture. It seriously put the Stripe, the capital of his Mojave Wasteland, to utter shame.

Maybe the Courier could contract the builders? He would definitely ask after them once he figures out how exactly to return. His thoughts of return and skulk and dagger diplomacy went on as he allowed team RWBY to lead him to this headmaster of theirs. Perhaps it involved more of this magic if theirs? He hadn't mentioned it yet, not wanting to appear too weak or outlandish, but really, what else could it be but magic they were using? No way could a group of four teenage girls be so ridiculously strong, fast and talented. That and the shadow thing Blake did, or the Glyph thing Wiess did. Blatant in what it was.

Regardless he needed to worry about other things. Like this Ozpin fellow. According to the girls, he was sharp and knew a lot. He'd have to play it carefully; still, the Courier had absolute faith in himself to accomplish his ruse. He had an excellent poker face.

"We're here!" Ruby said raising a fist in the air. The Courier had figured as much, what with the thick expensive looking door standing in front of the stopped group. The plaque by the door that read headmaster in swirly and fancy lettering also might've helped him decide that this was, in fact, the place. But he digressed.

"So what now?" The Courier asked delicately.

"Uhh just wait here, I'll go in first and give my report and let him know about you." Ruby said as she walked up to the door and opened it. "See you in a quick second!"

He nodded as he sat himself down in a nearby chair while the others did the same across from him. Ruby nodded once awkwardly before closing the door behind her. The Courier began to busy himself by sorting through his Pip-Boy. Checking through it he confirmed that the auto-mapping had indeed kicked in after being unable to connect with any satellites. It was designed to during the Great War so that if they, the satellites, were knocked out of orbit or were destroyed, the pip-boys would be able to make new maps automatically.

Praise the pre-war scientists for their foresight.

He had a large portion of the forest he'd came from mapped along with some of Beacon. It irked on him slightly since he was used to having a whole picture. He'd have to request some maps later when he got the chance. Anyways, all looked to be in working order so he glanced up at the frighteningly powerful girls in front of him. The white haired bitch, Wiess if he recalled, was making a point of ignoring his very existence. Blake seemed to find a novel from somewhere and was reading through it. Yang was next to him looking over his shoulder.

"Whatcha got there?" She asked when the Courier continued ignoring her, waiting for her to speak first.

"Oh this?" He asked looking at her and holding up his arm and pointing towards it. He knew that it was what she was referring to but he was stalling for his story to develop. She smiled and nodded her head. "That."

He'd seen their leader, Ruby, with some sort of high-tech touch pad so he felt safe saying some of what it was. But what would seem too advanced? What would seem outdated? Why was he even bothering with lies when honestly might not have any adverse affect?

"It was a gift from my gramps." Technically true. "I was setting off for a bit of an adventure and he thought it would come in handy." Again, true. Thankfully, she seemed content with the answer and nodded her head. Though Wiess had seemed to register his living and decided to question further.

"I've never seen anything like it, does it even function anymore?" Fuck. At least she confirmed that it does seem outdated.

"Weiss! That's harsh!" Yang exclaimed at her ruder teammate.

"What? Just look at it! Its beat up and trashy. Rough boxy edges coated in dirt and grime. Its painfully inelegant in every fashion."

"Yeah, it still works. It's just a bit of a hand me down, hand me down, hand me down. Maybe a few more times. But it maps and holds a bit of music." Along with atomizing a few hundred pounds of armor, explosives, knives, swords, guns, munitions and other oddities. But they don't exactly need to know that, he was just a humble young man whom inherited it from his caring gramps.

"That's it?" Wiess says looking incredulous.

"Wowww, that is lame. You need to get a scroll." Yang throws in, interrupting whatever foul things were going to spill out from Wiess' hole.

A what? The Courier was saved from answering by Ruby walking back out from the headmaster's office. "Anddd we nailed it. Good job guys!" She says smiling brightly to her team, which only Yang appears outwardly pleased at hearing. "The headmaster says you," Ruby continues but now looks at him, "should go see him right away."

At his raised eye brow she quickly adds, "But I'm sure it's nothing really major!"

"Alright, in that case it was a pleasure meeting you all," hardly, "and I do hope we meet again. It was.. Exciting." Horrifying. Horrifying is the more accurate word.

"We better, you promised to tell us your name." Ruby says extending her hand. Huh, he'd taken her for more of the shy, awkward type. Pretty professional with the hand shake. "Next time I suppose I may." The Courier half-heartily agrees shaking her hand.

"Later!" Yang adds over her shoulder as they walk away, Blake still in her book and Wiess again not registering his very life. As soon as they round the corner, the Courier sighs explosively. The kids were utterly exhausting. But, he supposed it was better than spending time with the think tank at big mountain, now those guys were exhausting.

He opened the thick wooden door and walked through into a lavish looking office. To either side of him the walls were completely dominated by bookshelves while a thick desk sat in front of a large window in which sunlight poured through. Behind the desk sat a man with white hair and spectacles resting on his nose who looked surprising very young. Seeing as the other person in the room was a very tall female who just bleed secretary, the young man must've been the one who supposedly had answers for him.

"Hello Mr. Nameless, please take a seat." Ozpin gestured to the chair on the opposite side of his desk. The Courier stared for a heartbeat before letting his feet carry him across luscious carpet towards the offered chair. Last time a chair was offered to him, it was rigged to blow by a certain prewar celebrity turned ghoul.

"Is this oak?" The Courier asked as he lowered himself down, waving a hand at the desk.

"Yes, it is. Good eye." More of a good guess really, it was just similar to the one he owned and had cracked. He'd really just wanted to confirm that his was oak and that he hadn't just been calling it that all these years for no reason, that would have been silly and embarrassing. "Anyways, we're not here to make idle chat about furnishings, perhaps later however if we have time."

"Too true," the Courier happily agreed as he diverted his attention away from the pleasantly smelling desk. Ozpin seemed to favor the color green. He was wearing a waistcoat and dress pants that made the Courier a bit envious. Standing over to his side was his secretary. At least that's what she resembled. When Erin was with him, she stood just as the women here now did. They even dressed the same; formally. She wore a white and black combo skirt and blouse, but to really complete the secretary look, she had her blond hair tied into a neat bun with a loose braid off to the side, a pair of spectacles, and even some documents on a clipboard clutched to her chest.

"I believe introductions are in order. My name is Ozpin; I am the Headmaster here at Beacon. This," he gestures towards the woman,"is Glynda Goodwitch, a staff member here and a huntress. She assists me with running the academy."

"A pleasure to meet you both, thank you for taking this time to meet with me." The Courier said with a grin, purposefully avoiding giving away his identity. He leaned forward and watched Ozpin closely as he continued as to give them more to think about. "As I'm sure you're aware already, I've found myself to be rather lost. A funny story really, I recall leaving my good grandfather, as the nomad life just wasn't for me. I'd wanted to see sights, explore and find adventure. I'm quite young and full of energy you see. So I left our camp just a little North of here at vale.

Yet at some point, things got blurry, days and nights disappeared. I don't recall what happened after initially setting out, everything is too vague. So if you wouldn't mind giving me a map and some information, that would be lovely."

Ozpin hadn't changed his face at all throughout the entire length of his short recountinh, hell even Glynda had barely been fazed by any of it. Both their poker faces told him nothing, and that really bothered him. His hands began to itch, not in nervousness, but more of in annoyance. Ozpin took a sip from his mug, which smelt heavily of coffee; before saying something the Courier had expected with their lack or reaction.

"You're lying."

Well, there goes that.

"What gave it away?" He asked slumping in his pleasantly comfy chair and placing his cheek into his palm. "I thought it was entirely plausible myself really."

Ozpin gave a small chuckle, "You are correct, it is entirely plausible. Very well done actually. You gave a simple explanation that was vague as to not give away your lack of knowledge and kept with what little you did know. If it weren't for my already knowing that you aren't of this world, it might've taken a more in depth look to figure it out."

The Courier was about to reply when something about his word choice stood out. The same something that had been in his mind since meeting team RWBY in the forest. "You said 'aren't of this world'?"

Ozpin furrowed his brows for a moment before nodding to Glynda, who handed the clipboard she had been clutching to her chest to the Courier. What he had previously mistaken as documents were actually very clear photographs depicting something like a fiery comet falling from the night sky. "It's very pretty, I agree. But I don't see the relevance.."

His voice trailed off as his jaw first dropped in surprise, and then his face froze in shock and disbelief as he flipped to the next photo. "Is something the matter?" Ozpin asked slowly catching the Couriers sudden change.

"You know damn well what is wrong with this. What're you playing at showing me this altered rubbish?" The Courier snarled slamming the picture onto the thick desk. Glynda tensed up instantly at his sudden change while Ozpin simply adjusted his spectacles and looked down at the offending picture. "I fail to see what's got you so bothered." He stated plainly after a brief moment's observation. Inwardly the Courier respected the man just that little bit more, no one in the Mojave would have dared to be so plain with him while he was so riled.

"The damned moon! Do not pretend that there is nothing wrong with it!" The Courier yelled as his heart sunk more and more with each passing second. It couldn't be real. It just couldn't. There was no way the moon could have been that way. It was just so.. so..

Shattered and broken.

All his doubts up until this point, all of his suspicion came to the forefront of his mind. An image can be faked easily, sure. But there was actual magic here and the place looked utterly untouched by the Great War. Now they showed him a picture with a broken moon? The Courier was tired of second guessing. He wanted answers. Just where the hell was he?

"There is nothing out of the ordinary with the moon." Ozpin said flatly, but his eyes said he knew exactly what the Courier was talking about. Something that only served to further fan the flame within him, but, if nothing he knew self-control and quickly returned the disarming grin that previously sat on his face moments earlier. He'd lost already, no point in clinging to the charade. To be honest, he was a little sore and being exposed so easily. This Ozpin fellow was someone to be wary of. "Fine, fine you've caught me. I've no idea where I am or about anything here related but that I do not belong."

Ozpin, for his part took his victory with only a small and very brief smile before nodding once. "Continue." He said gesturing to the rest of the photos.

With a sigh of resignation, the Courier picked up the pile of pictures he'd slammed and resumed looking through them. Most were the same as the first, a fiery streak in a starry sky sometimes with the moon and its broken corner, and others without. As he neared the end the photos seemed to zoom in on the fiery streak getting closer and closer until, in the very last photo he saw what Ozpin had been talking about. It was grainy slightly and a little blurred, but in the middle of the blazing meteor he saw an object, an object with four limbs, and one shining a green light.

The Courier stared at it a moment, then looked back at the ever stern Ozpin and the still tense looking Glynda and he laughed. Glynda jumped slightly at his roaring laughter while Ozpin remained unfazed for the most part except for an upraised eyebrow. "You can't be serious." The Courier breathed out after a long bout of side splitting laughter. They couldn't be.

At the flat look of Ozpin the Courier repeated himself a little more forcibly. "You can't be serious."

A broken moon, magic, advanced technology, no after affects of the Great War and now this? There was only so much the Courier could ignore until later.

"The King Taijitu that I assigned team RWBY to locate and destroy was only the official task. The meteor was what the mission was really about, not that I told them of it, of course. I had high hopes that they would successfully deal with the Grimm as well as find the crashed meteor that was in the area. And it seems like I was right to place such hopes in them." Ozpin said taking a sip from his mug and watching the Courier closely over its rim.

The Courier stared for a long moment trying to make sense of the whole ordeal. His thoughts couldn't form too overcome by everything as he was. His less than kind side, the more savage part of him, desperately wanted to get out and to rip and tear. The more logical side couldn't take any more of the madness, his thoughts and senses swirled. The grimm, the slightly creamed scent of Ozpin's coffee, his shotgun tearing away the bear-thing, the ticking of a clock in the corner, the beating of Glynda's heart, the grinding of his teeth, the itching in his palms, the burn of his finger tips. Suddenly his mind froze. The burn. The burn. The burn. The burn.

_**THEBURNINGTHEAGONYTHEPAINTHEBURNTHEBURNTHEBURN**_.

_"Wait shit, I forgot my pen!" he shouted with a smile._

_Erin smiled and began to chuckle but quickly turned it into a sigh._

_"Hold the door, I got it." She said with a huff, getting out and walking away from him._

_"it's the red one!" he shouted after her, pretending to be merry. She knew. She needed to die. Draw the gun, shoot her._

_But he needed her. She was valuable to him and his future._

_But she knew. His hands ached, his teeth ground together as that part inside of him roared for blood._

_His heartbeat thumped louder, pounding, hammering thunderously in his ears, nearly concealing the faint tick beneath him._

_His hand shot out tapping the switch to seal the door as the floor beneath him came apart._

_It happened so slowly._

_The doors were coming together an inch a hour, Erin's face became one of surprise in days, and from there, to one of horror as her body began to react, turning away from the searing heat._

_The ground was no longer there to support him. Instead it cracked and split, sending hot pieces upwards, propelled by the flames that also rose._

_He fell through the flames and through the bottom, ever so slowly._

_He gave Erin his bright smile as the doors did finally a hut; he wouldn't hurt her after all. She would live; she would take the throne he left. She was the only one that could make it work. Not he nor any other, he felt good leaving it to her. She'd do the Mojave well. She would worry at first, he knew her. But she wouldn't be able to screw it up; the council he'd gathered would see her make it wonderful. Yes-Man was ordered to listen to her in his absence, so she would be prepared for anything._

_He smiled to himself again as the flames stole his vision, boiling his eyes from his skull. He felt the burning heat as it bit into his bare flesh and pealed it from blackening bone. Yet he still smiled as he fell. He fell smiling. The Courier had finally reached the end of the road, his journey, was finally at an end._

_And in the end, all his sins and monstrous acts would have lead to something wonderful, something restoring and not destroying._

But he hadn't reached the end of his road, on the contrary, he now found himself on yet another.

The Courier breathed heavily as his mind finally remembered what had happened. He had fell in that elevator, but never hit the ground. At least he didn't hit the bottom of that shaft. "Are you alright?" he became aware or someone asking.

He looked back towards the two in front of them and saw Glynda flinch for some reason. "What?" He asked. His voice coming out dry, he winced as he tasted the flames again clawing it's way down his throat.

Ozpin seemed to hesitate a moment before seeming to reach an internal conclusion. "I asked if you were alright. You suddenly tensed up and began to have a panic attack."

"Oh did I? My apologies, I am fine, though a glass of water would be very much appreciated." He said recomposing himself. He would deal with all the thoughts and emotion later; right now it wouldn't serve him in any helpful way. "So I fell here from some other world you say?" He prompted after he took a deep swig of water Glynda offered him. Definitely a secretary, this one.

"That is my idea, yes." Ozpin said slowly in contemplation. "Tell me, what exactly is your world like? How much is similar?"

What was the Courier's world like? Now that was something he wouldn't have ever thought he'd be asked. It was home. It was what forged him, it created him. Without it, he wouldn't know what to do. Right now he had no idea what to do. Perhaps he should go out on a limp and trust Ozpin, so far, he had nothing else to cling onto. He was the Courier's only option, and so far, lying to him hadn't gotten him anywhere. With a sigh, he told him of home.

Ozpin sat at his desk in silence, sipping his coffee and pondering the past hour or two. He'd sent the other-worlder to get some rest in one of the empty rooms they had on hand, mostly so they could both fully wrap their heads around everything they'd each learned. The man had quite the tale and had lived quite the life. Ozpin was sure however, that the man hadn't told him everything he'd asked for concerning his own life. He'd even managed to yet again evade the subject of his name multiple times throughout their talks. But that didn't matter too much. He knew the stranger wouldn't do anything that would be considered risky. At least not yet.

"What is he?" Glynda asked quietly as she too thought over the events, especially one in particular. "Why didn't you tell him?"

Ozpin glanced at her for a moment and sighed. Why hadn't he? One moment he was looking at the zoomed in photo, the next.. things happened. He hadn't only tensed up incredibly nor just had a panic attack as he zoned out.. his flesh.. well no need to revisit that now. It seemed he was not aware of his semblance yet. From what he'd told them, they didn't have anything like it from where he came from.

"He'll have to discover it for himself."

"Is that really wise, Ozpin?" Glynda said frowning. She was worried, but she wouldn't say it.

"I have my hopes." He said as he rose from his seat. "I believe he came here for a reason, nothing of that magnitude happens without one. We'll just have to hope that the reason is a good and just one.

And to make sure it is, we will have to steer him onwards."

* * *

**A/N: Also, I will try to answer most reviews at the end of each chapter after I've written them. Though I will read them all as I write if not before.**

**ThatInternetGuy**: In the game, the NCR were pretty weak and were portrayed poorly, at least in my eyes. While yes, the bots are very tough and well equipped, they lack the flexibility, specialization, and critical thinking of living men and women who have been trained. While the NCR is filled with greenhorns, they do still have some that undergo intense training and the likes. A securitron only has what it has for every single situation, a squad can have various armaments and other gear for any number of different situations. And any war is costly, in this story the fighting didn't end at Hoover dam. It only served to break the backs of both the Legion and the NCR. But an injured and cornered animal is still very dangerous.

I'll get more into exactly how and why the cost for everyone was so high in later chapter, I do have flashbacks planned already and very vague outlines set for what made the Courier, the Courier. Also I totally missed the name, thanks for letting me know. Don't exactly know how that happened, but it's fixed.

**christian. 1: **As I said at the top, I have no real idea about where I will take this. A part of me wants him to become a hunter, another wants him to play politics, a Conqueror, who knows. The character I gave him (which I probably haven't portrayed as well yet, but will hopefully get more in depth with in later chapters) is very flexible in his thinking and can fit any number of roles. But what I can say is that I tweaked with the ages of everyone a bit as well as some of the timeline of RWBY. I'll get into that later. Another thing, the Courier is physically young. I'm still deciding some of his timeline so his exact age is subject to change as well. But he will be in the same age group as team RWBY. Maybe. (im very indecisive, I want too much.)

**SilverstormXD: **You're totally right, she isn't that bad in SEASON 2. When she first met everyone she was very cold and downright disdainful. The story so far takes place at that time. She will warm up and become more pleasant, but even in season 2 she keeps some of her iciness. But rest assured, she will become more likable.

**StaffSergeant: **Thank you very much, I am glad you enjoy it. This chapter (if it is good) is dedicated to you.

**BieberLover69: **Thanks a ton! Nice things like that encourage me to continue writing!

**Guestperson: **Thanks for the input! I try my best to make sure it reads easily, but sometimes I see myself skirting a lot of detail that would be nice. Will work on that a lot more though. But yeah, 1k word chapters are just cheats, I wouldn't do that. Maybe.


	4. Chapter 3: The Sake of Irony

**A/N: So I've kept my ear to the ground and heard that they will continue the main plot of the story, but I've also heard that though it's continuing, it wont be on the rails left by the Monty train. Then of course, heard a lot of other weird stuff and that they will not. If they said anything official I totally haven't heard it, I suppose it might be because I lied a sentence or two ago and haven't exactly kept my ear to the ground. Got my info from comments on youtube and a few random people in Warcraft Frozen Throne waiting lobbies. Anyways, regardless of what happens or what they do, I already wrote this chapter one sleepless night (the base of it anyways) and I've been taken by the story I have sorta planned. Thus, this story is even more AU than it was already. Fun stuff ahead probably.**

** So chapters will come out faster now unless they don't.**

* * *

Chapter 3: The Sake of Irony

The morning Sun shown fiercely overhead, as though to show all who reigned supreme. It's harsh rays scorched the earth and any that would walk the surface. To many, it was death. But perhaps it was just a mother teaching a harsh lesson? Perhaps it was teaching it's children to endure. She gave us nothing, in fact, she burned the flesh of any and wilted nearly all plant life that we would consume, she took and never gave. At least not these days.

But really it was more of an aunt. Earth was the harshest mother of all. A mother who was murdered by her own sons and daughters of old, giving her the satisfaction only a parent feels when their child grows into exactly what they wanted.

Why these thought went through his head as he lay there on the ground nursing his brushed cheek, he did not know.

"Get up." A gruff voice commanded. His father's. If the Sun were Aunt and Earth were Mother, he would still be the most unforgiving and the harshest.

Rising from the dusty ground he gave no indication of the pain he felt in his stinging cheek, else he receive another backhand. "Better." His father said simply as he paced back and forth in front of him. They both were stripped down to their loin cloths, his father feeling at ease as the sun scorched his already hardened and tanned flesh. He, of course, was the same by now after years of traditional sparring in nothing save the small modesty preserving piece of cloth.

Sitting on the hard and dusty earth around the pair, the tribe continued to observe them. He couldn't read any of their faces, their lack of expression nothing new to him. It was tradition for the olders to watch the young spar, a tradition that occurred regularly.

He heard the ground shift and ducked as his father's open palm soared over his head. He did not however, manage to dodge the knee that sent him back to the ground, this time sporting a freely bleeding nose. "Get up." His father said once more.

Once again complying he rose once more, this time he was the one on the attack and ran forward towards his father, fists raised. His father lowered himself slightly and spread himself out, ready to receive his charge. His bare feet pound the ground, dust rising behind him as he powered forward. His eyes searching for any opening when suddenly he saw someone behind his father.

His friend Lia waved his way, smiling brightly as the sun further lit her features. She looked radiant, her dusty and freckled face split with a grin, her brown hair cut short out of her darkly tanned face. In that moment he fumbled his step and face planted into his father's fist. Stars lit his vision as his head rocked back and all his momentum was crashed into the stony knuckles. He bit his tongue to hold in a cry of pain and shock as he fell to the ground once more, burying his bloody face into the dirt to resist the temptation to hold onto it. 'Show no weakness.' was something they were taught early. Showing any weakness was looked downed upon and would give other cause to 'help' rid the one of their weakness.

"Get up." His father snarled, sending a shiver of fear through his spin, he obeyed, rising as fast as he could manage and almost stumbling as his head spun harshly.

"Concentrate." His father spit, clearly annoyed and frustrated. He looked over his shoulder and gave Lia a glare that almost succeeded in smothering the smile from her face. _Almost_.

"Enough." One of the elders said. His father spun on him, fingers splayed like claws ready to tear, but quickly caught himself and replaced his face with his calm mask. "Yes." He said gruffly.

"Your son has improved, already there are no youths left that can match him one on one. We expected nothing less from yours."

He felt his father frown as he nodded silently.

"We will continue the matches when the sun sets. For now, a hunt for tomorrow's gathering. Rest now."

His father thumped his fist onto the scar on the center of his chest and bowed, giving his consent as he left the circle. He, himself likewise turned to the elders and mimicked his father's actions, thumping his fist against his mark and bowing deeply before leaving as well.

"He was as harsh as ever." A voice said from behind him. "He shouldn't go so hard on you, you're only ten, a total young blood."

Turning he saw Lia walking behind him with a worried smile on her face. She was always smiling, earning her the title "Jester" last year when she was twelve. He always liked that about her.

"He wasn't going too hard, I am still alive after all."

Her smile slowly spread wider across her face as her eyes lit up with a hellish fire. The world around them shook and shuddered with an unseen force. His dad was there again, towering behind her garbed in his war gear. Blood sprayed across his bronze skull mask and dripped from impossibly wide shoulders. His breathe came out raggedly as his amber eyes, the eyes of a monster stared into his own.

"Just look at you though! There no need to be that harsh. Isn't it painful?" Lia said in a thousand voices that were her own. Her screams of sadness, her cries of joy, mumbles of depression, all intermingled into one. "I worry about you." Her smile grew too wide for her face and split it down the middle. Her painfully white teeth became flecked with blood as a pink foam began to seep from between. Hollow eyes narrowed as the otherworldly fire flared brighter in them.

"It's fine, if it doesn't hurt, it doesn't count." He laughed as fire began to erupt all around them, setting the village alight. Lia laughed too as her jaw unhinged with a loud and grotesque pop before opening impossibly wide. With a final "Hah," she lunged, plunging teeth deep into his vulnerable throat. The fire spread uncontrollably and the next he knew the two of them were caught ablaze in blistering flame, all while his father, Hal Glidyar, continued to stare him down with fierce amber eyes. Judging, screaming, hating.

* * *

The Courier lunged awake dripping in sweat with wide amber eyes.

A dream? His frightful eyes scanned his surroundings with a desperation he'd scarcely felt before. Soft bed, blue walls, wooden dressers and some curtains to his left holding the morning's light at bay. He wasn't there. He wasn't there anymore, not even in the same world. He let out his pent up breath as he released his grip on his 10mm, its grip sighing in relief from the disappearing pressure.

"After all those years, it comes back to haunt me now." He whispered to himself. The Courier was lying to himself however, it had never stopped haunting him.

Popping his neck in a delightful way that sent shivers over his shoulders he got out of bed and began to loosen himself up, a lot to do today. Probably. He still didn't know where he stood in this world. For as sharp as Ozpin was, once he got talking, his face didn't stop. It was the thing that told him that the headmaster had some plans for him, some expectation. With little other real options, he would play along for now.

Thoughts of home came to mind, the outrageousness of his situation and absurdity of it all briefly tickled his mind, but he quickly quashed them. Thinking on that would only slow him down.

Rising up from his brief series of push-ups he searched the dressers for anything useful. To his delight, he found good quality clothes that were cleaner than anything he'd worn in recent memory. Atomizing his duster and other clothes, he atomized the clothes he found then reatomized them on himself. Dressing and undressing in that manner amused him and saved him time. He abused it as often as possible.

Now wearing a black suit with gold lining accompanying a blue vest and white undershirt with a red tie, the Courier (very) happily made his way back towards the office he found the Headmaster in. He had been told the previous night to come by when he was awoken and ready.

For the first time, he found himself truly admiring the cleanliness of the campus. There was even a beautiful and undoubtedly complex fountain sitting right in front of the main building, behind a tall black iron gate. The Courier couldn't wait to see this worlds military complexes. He had high hopes for those. His thoughts died off as he reached the same rich smelling oaken door from before. Giving it a light rap of his knuckles, he adjusted his new favorite tie and let himself in.

Just as before, Ozpin sat behind his desk with his mug filled with fragrant smelling coffee seemingly reading over something in his hand. It was just him today it appeared. His eyes rose to meet his then down, looking over the outfit the Courier now had on, he seemed to approve of something in his own head.

"Ozpin." The Courier greeted, taking the same seat from last time.

"Nameless. I trust you have given your position some deep thought."

"I have."

"Good," Ozpin placed the paper on the desk and slid it over to him. Raising an eyebrow, the Courier turned it towards himself and began to read over it as Ozpin started to rummage through his possessions within his desk.

"What're you playing at exactly?" The Courier said looking up from the contract with amusement. "Enrollment?"

Ozpin ignored him for a moment as he continued to search until finally, he found what he was looking for. Pulling it from his desk it was the object resembling the thing Ruby had, a scroll if he recalled. "Yes, enrollment. You have no standing here as of yet and to the extent of our knowledge, have no way of returning to your home in the immediate future. This way you can get used to our world and we can put your skills to use. A win, win as it were."

Taking the collapsed scroll from Ozpin the Courier absently nodded his head. They both knew that it also meant Ozpin would be able to easily keep an eye on him. "I've filled out the enrollment form to the best of my ability, but the rest you need to do." Ozpin twirled perhaps the fanciest pen he'd ever seen and handed it to him. "Here."

Feeling like he was about to sign his soul away to the white haired devil, the Courier went over what Ozpin had already filled in. From a nomadic family in the West, some other past achievements and fluff, gender, eye color, all the works. He also noticed a lot of what was on there was taken from his story yesterday. The name, birthdate and age were all left horribly blank. Looks like the game was up.

Grumbling about ruined fun, the Courier filled out the rest of the form with a curious Ozpin pretending not to be very interested in his writing. "19?" Ozpin noted as he filled out the age category.

"Here." The Courier said handing the now complete enrollment form to the Headmaster.

"Thank you... Ah, Dorian "Seer" Glidyar. Interesting. Is there perhaps a-"

"We've only just meet yesterday, don't you think it is rude to ask such things so early in the game?" Dorian interrupted hastily.

Ozpin's brows furrowed as he looked about to reprimand him, but, with reluctance he settled for only nodding. "Anyways, here is the handbook of our prestigious Beacon, as well as a few extra books on Remnant. It would only be beneficial for you to know where you are after all."

Nodding in agreement, Dorian took the offered books and internally cringed. He hated reading. "Now then," Ozpin leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. "First things first, to determine where you will be placed, there is a trail you must complete. It will be dangerous of course."

'Of course', the Courier chuckled to himself and allowed a broad smile to take his face. He was tired of talking, it was about time he killed something.

.. What? His smile faltered slightly. Where had that thought come from?

* * *

And that's how he ended up in the middle of the woods yet again. He grunted as he dived to his right, avoiding the wolf creature's lunge and firing four rounds from his assault carbine into its side. Ejecting the spent magazine he slapped another one in and rocked the bolt back, loading in the first round before shouldering the stock in one fluid movement. His grin widened as he let loose bursts of 5mm hollow point into the masked wolves. Beowolves if he remember correctly. Regardless of their name, his rounds tore into exposed flesh easily, spraying the grass with gore.

Two fell in a heartbeat, another three in the next, and by the fifth the whole dozen of them were down. Ejecting the half spent mag and atomizing it, he pulled another from his belt to replace it. His desert ranger armor had thus far, remained unscathed even though this was the third group he'd run into. He thought he was making good progress. Only an hour ago did Ozpin give him this task, apparently it was tradition used to determine where students would be.

Checking the surroundings from behind the red tinted lenses of his helmet, he continued in the direction he'd been told to go, assault rifle still out and at the ready. He'd already gone through eight and a half extended mags, the things were hard to put down and only getting tougher he noticed. He'd have to switch up his tactics soon enough. Oh look, an apple.

Shaking his head, Dorian took one off a low hanging branch and keep walking through lush underbrush. It still blew his mind how easily alive things were. Back in the Mojave things barely clung to life, and those that did had to be determined to cling on any way they could. Just like him even.

Thoughts of the past and future continued to plague him as he tried to focus on the task at hand. He'd put them off so much already and now they refused to leave. He began to doubt himself and worry. What if-

His thoughts were interrupted by a deep, reverberating growl from behind him. Turning around he saw perhaps the biggest Beowulf yet. The others were only inches taller than him, but this one was at least a foot taller and twice as broad as the rest. Letting loose another growl that reverberated in his chest, the thing's pace increased as it walked towards him with murder in its eye. Clearly it believed itself far better than he and hadn't bothered to take him unawares.

'Concentrate' the voice of his father echoed in his mind from his dream earlier. Cursing his lack of attention, Dorian shouldered his rifle once more and opened fire with a four round burst aimed for the grimm's center mass. The thing however, was fast and dashed to the side even before his finger started to compress the trigger, evading the bullets. Smart. It must have been watching him earlier. His father's voice once again snarled in his head. He was too out of it, and might lose his life because of it.

"Damned if I'll be the thing's meal." Dorian growled back at the beast before letting loose fully on the thing. It ducked and weaved the worst of it, but those rounds that did find their mark shattered and crumpled. A few drew blood, but the thing didn't seem that bothered by the bits of bullet buried in its hide.

When Dorian's magazine clicked dry, the thing finally went on the offensive. Swearing again, the Courier ducked under one deadly claw swipe and then had to jump back from its other. Ejecting the spent mag, he tried to pull another from his vest but only had it torn from his grasp. "You fucking shit." Dorian breathed out as he used his carbine to parry another swipe. The second one however tore ragged strips from his brown leather duster.

"That's it, time for you to fuck off for a second." Ducking yet another swipe, the Courier moved in and jabbed the hot barrel of his Carbine into the things gullet, stopping the frustrated growl in its throat. The thing reeled back a step and Dorian took his rifle in a baseball bat type grip and swung it hard into the side of the Beowulf's face, making it stumble back another two steps and dazing it slightly.

Tossing the ruined weapon to the side, the Courier atomized a fire axe in one hand and drew his .44 from its place on his hip with the other. "Get fucked." He swung at the creature with the axe and scored a glancing hit on its shoulder as it recovered enough to dodge.

Seeing an opening from the swing, the Beowulf lunged for him only to receive three .44 rounds to the chest. "Not happening." Bringing the axe back around he managed to bury it deep into the creatures shoulder, between two segments of the naturally tough bone that served it like armor. The thing howled as Dorian took advantage of his buried axe holding it in place to place the muzzle of his .44 flush with its head. "Good fight, but you should've ambushed me." He pulled the trigger three final times, silencing its howl.

"That was fun." Dorian idly remarked as he let the Beowolf fall before putting his boot on the center of the thing's chest and ripping his axe out. He looked around a moment before grabbing his ruined carbine and the magazine that was clawed from his hand before atomizing it along with his axe. He could use the working parts for something else probably. Checking the time and direction he returned to his trek. As the body began to rot.

Half an hour later he finally made it to a ruin. Inside on pedestals were black and white chess pieces. He figured it wouldn't actually be an artifact or some useful item, but he still felt lightly disappointed. Circling the chamber idly looking for anything that would give him a hard day, he came to a stop on the white chess piece side.

A white King, knight and pawn stood out to him the most, though that could've been the result of him not remembering what the other pieces were called and so blocked them from mind. Well there was the queen, he knew that one. But he wasn't much a queenly type. Arcada though, he was certainly a queen. Anyways, a King for obvious reasons, but that might draw a bit too much for him. A knight because it made him think of those that wore heavy armor and murdered those beneath them, but that might not be a good thing to go with. And finally, the pawn. Everyone was a pawn of fate and the world.

Rubbing the scruff on his chin he continued to ponder the three. In the end he came down to his choice. The white knight. He didn't pick pawn, because he was no ones pawn. King, because he would not sit idly on a throne and allow others to do his fighting, and again, it might draw too many conclusions about him. He picked a white knight solely for ironies sake. There were no white knights in the wastes. Well, at least there were none that got as high as he did. That, was a messy climb that would stain their white armor a messy red.

Taking the thing in hand, he placed it in his pocket before making he way through the rapidly disappearing mountain of corpses of the Grimm.

"You've got to be kidding me." Dorian said bringing a hand to his face in horror.

"It's you!" A certain short red haired girl yelled out in joy.

"It's you." He repeated much less enthusiastically. Ruby however, seemed to completely miss his dread or perhaps just didn't care as she launched herself at him and gave him a brief squeeze around his waist. In the room behind her, Dorian saw the rest of team RWBY peer through the door with very mixed emotions.

Yang was grinning broadly, and waving towards him, Blake just stared at him over the top of her book, seemingly indifferent. It was a different book from yesterday, the cover was red while before it was blue. Wiess had a look of blatant horror and distaste on her face that matched his own. All in all he felt like laughing but knowing he would be stuck with them until further notice just really killed it for him. "So you're the transfer student Ozpin said we would be getting! It's sorta obvious now that I think about it." Ruby chuckled to herself before walking back into the room.

Not wanting to stand in the hall awkwardly, the Courier stepped inside also, sealing his damnation. Probably. "Yeah that's me."

"This is ridiculous!" Wiess shouted, while a little offended, he certainly agreed, "We've already got the total of four for the team! What're you doing here?!"

The idea of telling her to fuck off with a solid slug from dinner bell really itched at him, but remembering her fighting just yesterday came to him mind like a big "bad fucking idea" sign, so he just settled for pointedly ignoring her and raised his hand towards Yang. "Yo."

"Sup!" She replied happily, her smile telling him she knew exactly what he was doing. Wiess fumed and began to put together something undoubtedly scathing when he decided to cut her off and actually answer her. "I was sent in as support. A bit of extra muscle since Ozpin said you guys would need it, what with all the 'extra' things you have been doing."

Her remark died on her lips as she looked away bashfully. The others in team RWBY had similar reactions to his words, he could relate with his experience with the man, he had ways of knowing things. "Did he say anything else about our uh.. 'Extra activities'?" Blake said from behind her book, her face an expressionless mask. Again, her eyes sold her out. She was afraid of what he thought but set in her ways. If Dorian told her Ozpin was against it, she would undoubtedly go on regardless.

"He told me about them in detail but gave no hints of his own thoughts on the matter. Ozpin overall just didn't say or hint at if he agreed or disagreed, but told me it would be irresponsible of him to allow such dangerous activities without some extra help."

Blake began to just stare for a few moments afterwards weighing things over in her head before she nodded, relief filled her eyes along with a few other things. "Well, that aside welcome to the team! We were only told a few minutes ago, so we didn't really have time to prepare anything special, so.. Welcome!" Yang swung in, wrapping an arm around his neck and sweeping her other free one towards the rest of the room.

"Really, don't mention it." Seriously, don't.

"You better not slow us down." Wiess threw in, seeming to have recovered from earlier and deciding to throw one last barb.

"We should go by the cafeteria and grab some cake to celebrate!" Yang shouted raising up a fist toward where he assumed it was. "Wait up! Before anything else, name!" Ruby yelled, leaping in front of the doorway Yang was in the process of dragging everyone through.

"Oh yeah, that. Well, I did promise. My name is Dorian. Dorian 'Seer' Glidyar." He introduced.

Ruby smiled before stepping out of the doorway and began to lead the way to the cafeteria. "Welcome to the team, Dorian."

Despite himself, he felt himself nod.

* * *

_**Miles away**_

Moonlight steamed through the massive canopy of branches of a mighty tree, who's roots system reached deep into the earth and illuminating a single blue flower. A figure kneeled down by the flower and began to sing a sickeningly beautiful song in a language not meant for the ears of even gods. Words of an older than ancient dead origin echoed through the forest in a voice radiant and seductive enough to cause listeners to claw their own ears out in anguish from hearing such perfection.

The massive branches began to sway and die in rhyme with its notes, the hundreds of Grimm with moonlit masks began to fidget and whimper. The flower however, continued to stand even as the tree twisted into itself and cracked apart even as the figure hit one final long and drawn out note. With its end, the tree gave a final, brutal twist before snapping. The Grimm scattered, fleeing as their instinctual fear propelled them fast as they could. The figure's pale face, tinted a pasty blue by the light of the moon, allowed itself a small smile at the flower who's petals shown with a powerful aura.

It "tsked" to itself quietly, before with a feminine voice too beautiful and perfect enough to have a world's wars fought over it, spoke.

"Flower so beautiful, why doth thou stand so defiant in the face of I? Thine beauty remains unharmed and untouched to mine.  
Oh flower so beautiful, why doth thou remind me of a Courier of six? So strong art thou, so defiant. Tis' a waste of thee to have been made a flower.

Yet fear not, for I shall fix that.

Oh flower so beautiful, flow and shudder, shake and change. Dance to mine own voice. Take up the shape more fitting for thee."

Magic like that of dust, yet so much more potent swirled at the tips of her claws and streamed to the blue flower. Just as she said, it shuddered violently and began to grow. Large green and cancerous growths began to erupt along it as it changed more and more faster and faster, quickly rising above the crouched women. Widening and elongating, spinning and poping, it soon stood as a fleshy pod before with purple veins pulsating beneath a transulcent skin. Then, with a sigh it opened up to the world.

Stepping from it, stood another women. More of a young girl in appearance, with long blue hair shaping a fair, beautiful face. In the new arrivals eyes however, she spewed hate and spite upon the world, and especially upon her creator.

"Oh flower so beautiful, bring to me the Courier of six, he who does not belong. If failing that, peel him of his fake flesh, make him see himself for what he truly is."

A sweet smile that promised the damnation of all things spread across the pale creator's face. "A monster in the flesh of a man."

* * *

**A/N Here, have some review replies. Please leave more so I can respond more. I crave it grossly.**

**christian. 1: Thanks for leaving the review! Im glad I've got you excited thus far, I do have a bit planned for our Courier, Dorian. A lot of his past will haunt him and he will be very close to losing himself again. (Note the "again")**

**BieberLover69: Sorry the earlier chapters seemed too slow for you, I want to say that is only because it is the first three chapters, but I'm working on pace and I feel I do drag a little at times. I tried to speed it up a little this chapter without skipping anything good or just speeding through. It's a challenge to find the right mix, I enjoy the challenge though.**

** As for knowing the Canon, it's mostly to know the characters of RWBY more and what's planned for the bad guys. Really it's so I can be lazy and not come up with my own stuff. Though with this chapter, I have effectively thrown away all that and have denied myself a lot of laziness. I must be a masochist.**

**ThatInternetGuy: Yes. It is true that they had incredible armaments, and an army of them could and would indeed strike hard against any opposing, condensed force. But wars are not fought that way. Two armies do not just smash into each other, especially when one has had it's broken. In any direct confrontation the Securitrons would wipe the floor with Legion and NCR, don't you agree? So what would you do if you led the weaker army? Avoid such confrontations right? Regardless of what you would do, that is what they both did. Guerrila tactics, traps, ambushes, anything with an unfair advantage would be used so that the superior weapons of the Securitrons could not be used to full effect. Securitrons do not have the critical thinking and flexibility in their programing like a living person has and so they can be easily outmaneuvered and outsmarted.**

** Also where did you get thousands from? Im still hashing out the numbers myself here, but there will not be many thousand of them. There will likely not be over 1 thousand of them. If I said many thousands earlier, it must have slip my mind and I apologize tell me where and I'll change it.**

** The war between the NCR, Legion and the forces of the Courier took months before the Courier came out on top. While the Securitrons did do the brunt of the fighting, real men and women who fought under his banner also participated. Not all lived to see his victory. Even non-fighters on his side died and their homes raided and burned. War is costly and never very clean no matter how 'superior' one's force is. There are plenty of examples in human history. (shit that was long, but I hope you understand now.)**

**StaffSergeant: Nice! I like you!**

**correnhimself316: Yeah finally got a bare-boned plot coming along. Though im still deciding on a lot of things, but Canon is gone. Just expect some semblance between this and the show.**

**mastermind: None actually. He 'died' before he could really do much. He got a lot of things set up and started, which Erin with continue in his name, but he did little real ruling. He would have been both I'd imagine. The people fully supported him and his ruling counsel because after all, he did so much to help them all. He went down as the start of a new good road. But as for Remnant? We'll see, I'm still deciding.**

**ddawson561: Open up! New chapter!**


	5. Chapter 4: Mother Must be Proud

**A/N: Sorry for the wait for this. For some reason I decided to switch the tense and do a different writing style and it was a bit of a mistake I believe. Editing this was a huge pain to the point where I've become so sick of reading this over and over again I've decided to just get to the point of decently proof-read to post it. So while I am not satisfied with this chapter and plan to eventually somewhere down the line rewrite it. Speaking of which, I rewrote this four times already with different ideas at first, and then finally with the style change. To say this chapter physically hurts me would be an understatement. But here you go.**

**Side note: Also I need to do a few edits for previous chapters, mostly just small grammar and spelling fixes, but one bigger thing to change is a small bit of dialog in the first chapter which gives a rough timeline. Still, nothing really worth re-reading unless you are so inclined, it's mostly just to stop myself from shivering in disgust at the small things.**

* * *

Chapter 4: Mother must be proud

Dorian is enjoying class today.

Today is the first day of his first class, which is his first time in a learning environment. Not that he would really call the situation he's in a 'learning environment.'

Sitting in the center of a lecture hall the class listens to Mr. Porter, an adventurous Englishmen with an excellent mustache, regale them with stories of his many, many adventures. Each of said stories held more twists than the odd braids in the hair of the girl sitting in front of him. The tales were epic, nerve racking, suspenseful and-

Ruby's head finally slips from her palm and into her desk with a loud thump. To tell the truth, the tales were a little dry and for the most part, uninformative. Sure under layers of fluff and drawn out action, Dorian did find small nuggets of information. It all together was entertaining, though by Ruby's snore, it might've just been to him.

Leaning back in his desk after scribbling down another rare, small nugget of info, he let his eyes wander the room. The lecture hall consisted of rows of desks arranged in a descending half-circle down to where Mr. Porter conducted his lectures. Behind where the large man was pacing, is his large wooden desk with the golden bust of his face ontop. Behind that is several sketches of various different Grimm and some info about each. Though the words were tightly spaced, small and scribbled, Dorian had already copied each to his own, terrible three-year old doodles of the Grimm. He wasn't an artist and probably never would be. His dreams were for naught.

As yet another twist in Mr. Porter's tall tell occurred the Courier let out a sigh and began to explore his scroll again. The device was still unknown to him for the most part after only brief episodes of tampering. Already he knew how to do the important stuff such as exchanging numbers with others (and had with his team) as well as how to call and "text". He still preferred his Pipboy to be honest and hopped to be able to find some way to... For lack of better phrasing, combine the two. Though he's sure that he lacks the technical savy to accomplish such a feat.

"Oh, so that's how you change the background." Grinning victoriously, Dorian goes about switching it for a default color. He settles with a solid burnished red. Again, he isn't very technologically adapt. At all.

His ineptitude aside, he finds himself very pleased he could finally get rid of the annoying "selfie" Yang set it to the night before when she "borrowed " it for a second. Sighing happily, he places his scroll back down, but not before glancing at the time. Forty more minutes before getting to a class he finds himself actually looking forward to. Replacing his attention onto his professor, Dorian notes that he must've reminded himself of another tale and without delay, launched himself straight into it. Nothing to gain there obviously.

He allows his attention to waver once more and slumps in his chair. Bored, he decides to entertain himself and kill some time with recalling the previous night.

* * *

"So where exactly am I going to be sleeping..?" He had asked once they returned to the room from their cake escapade, the sweet taste of which still lingered on his lips. He had decided he was not much of a fan. Too sweet for him.

"Uhh I don't really know.." Ruby said scratching the back of her head. Yang had 'hummed' to herself yet not really looking too concerned.

"The rooms were only made for four, so I still don't get why we have to have a fifth member." Wiess shot at him and not so subtly reminding him of her distaste as she sat on her bed and began to remove her white heels.

"Oh stuff it would you? It is what it is. Whining or shooting at me will solve nothing." His rebuke had immediately started a glaring contest between them. He had actually respected her for it, not many in the wasteland would match his, at least not after he started killing people that did.

"Besides, seeing how the beds are.. Stacked, I think I'll just use a sleeping bag." He said referencing the hazardously stacked bunk bed and breaking the staring match, to her delight. If only she weren't so damnably strong he'd consider putting a round or two of 5.56 in her.

Well, not really. But the thought did make him feel better.

Encouraged by her small victory Wiess struck out again. "And where do you plan to get a sleeping bag from? We don't have any." Her constant looking down her nose at him was finally starting to wear away at him.

"I have my own, but your concern for me is very touching, I'll be sure to not worry you so much in the future." He had deadpanned, trying to keep his temper down. The disadvantage of his reputation in Mojave meant he wasn't used to having to display such patience with people anymore. "You do? Where?" Ruby asked looking him up and down.

"Yeah," he sent a mental pulse through the chip in his skull to his pipboy. "Right here," and like magic, it appeared in his hands in a dull flash of orange light.

All eyes went wide, including his own once he realized what he did.

He'd nearly face palmed then at his slip up of using the devise. Back in his hellish world everyone knew about the prized relics known as Pip-boys and his owning one. He'd actually forgotten about how it may seem to others considering he was so accustomed to it himself. Thinking about it, Ozpin hadn't warned him against using it. But then again the headmaster hadn't exactly seen Dorian use it, so he supposed Ozpin was off free that time.

He ignored them and looked to a corner that would do him well as a place to sleep. "Anyone have an extra pillow? I lost my last one." By lost, he meant it was filled with bullet holes and saturated with dried blood over the face of some she-bitch whom had tried to gut him in his sleep in a different world. So as he said, it was lost.

"Here. How did you do that? The thing on your arm seemed to pulse too." As the first to recover from the obviously frightening experience of magical sleeping bags, Blake gave him the pillow he requested.

"Magic." He said simply setting it down at the head of his warm sleeping bag. Having felt the pillow, he was actually looking forward to sleeping for once because of the short experience. Again, four confused looks met his simple reply.

"And h-" Yang started.

"Magic means I don't have to explain shit. Those are the rules."

His earlier annoyance at Wiess disappeared in the face of the confused looks he was getting. He chuckled.

"Kidding, the device on my arm is called a Pip-Boy. It does what I told you earlier, mapping and the like. But it also breaks down items I've tagged mentally and that I'm in physical contact with and stores the object's mass within my own. Remember the chair I sat in earlier in the mess hall? That's why it nearly crumpled." It was an embarrassing experience he was thankfully not too familiar with. Come to think of it, the chairs Ozpin had in his office didn't complain much at all from his weight. Huh, interesting.

"That's so cool!" Ruby exclaimed, breaking the awkward silence that had descended at his explanation. "And that's where your hammer thing went!" She continued looking satisfied at her deduction.

Yang wrapped her fingers delicately around his wrist and began to stare intently at the devise with wide eyes. Blake and Wiess just stared curiously from their respective places in the room.

"Not so primitive and crappy now eh, Wiess?" His shit eating grin must've been plastered on because she huffed angrily and turned her head away from him. His ears still caught the "inelegant" remark she made regardless.

"How much do you have in there? _What_ do you have in there?" Yang said from his side.

Gently pulling his arm away he shrugged, "everything I own. Was a nomad and all remember?"

Any further questions about what he had in his mystery box were silenced when he raised his hand in a forestalling gesture. "I'm really tired so I'm going to take a shower and go to sleep. We can talk arrangements and all that privacy stuff tomorrow, for now I'm seriously beat."

* * *

With that, the night had ended pretty peacefully. The only other thing to note was the reaction he received when he returned half an hour later cleaned and freshened up after a much needed shower. Dorian smirks quietly to himself at the memory of the ashamed admiration from Wiess and the similar reactions from everyone else. Even now a chuckle itches at him a little at the thought. Already he thought to use it as ammo against Wiess in the future. Though, he'd be lying if he said it wasn't satisfying seeing the various looks of approval he got from his team then as well as those from others within the class he is currently receiving.

They weren't the hungry or obviously forward looks like what he received in the Mojave, but they looked more cautious and embarrassed even. It made sense the more he thought about it. In his world, life was hard, death was always present and bearing down on everyone. As a result modesty was mostly caste aside. You might die tomorrow, why not grab a good lay before death catches up to you? But here is quite different. Death wasn't as present and overbearing. Modesty and the like was back in style he supposes since they weren't likely to be gutted later in the afternoon.

Just some more small differences to store in his head for later. For now, class is still in session.

"And so I took the dastardly Grimm by the-" whatever he took hold of and what he did with it would be left to next time as the dismissal bell interrupts him. Thinking of it like that, Dorian couldn't help but chuckle again to himself as he reaches over in his seat and pokes Ruby awake.

"Ah, it seems I lost track of time!" Comes the ever loud voice of Mr. Porter to his ears, and then much more quietly and probably to himself he adds "again." Though he shouldn't worry. Dorian too lost himself in the past and as a result, lost the time as well. Though of course he didn't say anything of it. It would be rude to admit he wasn't paying attention.

Putting the last of his notes inside a binder he borrowed from Blake, Dorian stands and starts heading to his next class passing a frantically packing Ruby. "Wait up!"

Having refused plenty of people's more desperate pleas before (wink wink, nudge nudge), Dorian is a little surprised to find that he does wait up for her. The rest of the team however mingles with the other students, leaving him, Ruby and a few other stragglers still in the lecture hall.

"Come on, we don't have all day." He says leaning against a desk behind her. Dorian expects to wait there for a few moments while she packs but instead he gets reminded of how ridiculous the girl is.

Sighing explosively in frustration, Ruby's hand becomes a blur of motion as she quickly snatches up the remainder of her belongings and stuffs them into her bag. Dorian for his part manages to keep his eyes only extremely wide at her casual display of extraordinary speed. "Ok let's go!" She shouts rising to her feet and leading the charge to the next class. Which is Sparring: Physical fitness training.

"Finally." He says going along a couple steps behind her and out the door. When he first walked the halls, there had been no one around, they had felt painfully empty. He later found that it was due to it being a Sunday, a none-school day. As such, the students had left for the town of Vale for whatever reasons if they had no missions on hand such as RWBY did. Now however, the halls were crowded almost with students walking back and forth heading to wherever it was they needed.

It was almost calming in its chaotically organized nature.

Upon reaching the stadium entrance within the school, they parted ways, each heading towards their respective gender's changing areas. For Dorian, he wasn't exactly surprised when it turned out to be a very well kept locker room filled with other male students in various states of dress and undress.

Looking at his locker, he didn't know what to do with it. He knew what they were for and how they worked, but what point is there in his having one? In a flash of light that obscured his entire body, his clothes changed out to something more suitable. A thin grey Tee-shirt hugged his upper body exposing his rough physique and a pair of compact shorts. He went without shoes, if he found he needed them, then he could atomize a pair at anytime.

Turning from his locker, number 362, he saw all the other students in the locker room stop what they were doing to stare. In some cases, he really wished they'd finished. "It's magic, I ain't gotta explain shit." He barks their way as way of explanation.

They don't seem satisfied, but he is.

Starting to ignore them, Dorian settles himself down on one of the benches and pulls out his scroll to watch the time. Only a few minutes left until they leave the locker room according to his schedule. Instead of replacing it in his pocket, he atomizes its collapsed form and leans back against the lockers. Closing his eyes he begins to count down the seconds in his head.

He makes it three seconds before a pained grunt along with a fleshy thump meets his ears. Furrowing his brows he cuts out the other background sounds of changing and chatter near him. Another thump and another pained grunt followed by a handful of jeers from three people. Is this what they call bullying? Huh. Opening his eyes he stands and heads over to where he heard the sound. Thankfully, people seem uneasy around him already and part before him. He was familiar with in the wasteland.

Reaching the source, he observes one heavyset guy with strong features and short hair pound his fist into the gut of a leaner, and taller blond guy. The victim takes it with another pained grunt and falls to his knees coughing. Around them three other guys stand with no otherwise notable features. Except that all five of them wore armor and were armed with a variety of melee weapons.

The head 'bully' holds a large vicious looking mace loosely in his right hand to punch with his other, left hand dominant this one. Looking around, he saw everyone else equipping armor and holding a variety of weapons. All of which seemed to be CQC oriented. He felt odd now wearing what he was, but didn't think anything else of it.

One of the three jeering the big guy on took notice of him barely a moment after he came over. "Hey Cardin! We got a guy watchin over here." He hisses.

The big guy, Cardin, turns to the guy with the shaved head with a green Mohawk on top. "What'd you say Russel?" In reply, Russel points to Dorian whom had started to inspect his nails.

"Beat it before we beat you." Cardin growls through bared teeth. The Courier ignores him to pick a piece of dirt from under his nail. Much to their annoyance. One of the other onlookers seems to have a shorter fuse than Cardin as he is the first to react to Dorian ignoring them. "He said beat it punk!" The short tempered brown headed kid snarls.

"Dove." The final of the four bullies, a blue haired kid says trying to sooth the hot head by placing a hand on his shoulder. Dove shrugs him off and shoots him a glare. "Back off Sky." The aforementioned Sky backs off. Obviously a coward.

"Dove? A very pretty name that. Mother name you?" Dorian grins finally looking up from his nails.

"As a matter of a fact she did. What of it?"

"Oh nothing, nothing. I just thought it was a very suiting thing to call your daughter. I'm sure she must be proud, give my compliments to her naming insight."

His face scrunches up in a look of rage. Before he can say anything, Dorian starts opening fire at the rest. "And Sky? That's lovely too. An ever high thing that's entirely too blue. Like your parents when they named you? High as hell and blue to have you?" Sky's teeth ground together as he refused to meet his eyes that glinted with delight.

"A berry picker too aren't you? Must focus on the blue ones I'm sure, for the hair I mean. Your mother must be proud as well. You all must do your mothers well."

Cardin walks away from the blond kid towards him and stands directly in Dorians face. "You've got guts kid. But you've messed with the wrong people. See you in the arena." He says dispassionately before shoving past him. The rest of his posy follows suit, shooting there own hateful glares as they leave. Dorian just grins and winks in return. "Hah that was fun. I'm enjoying this whole school thing already." He says aloud to no one in particular sitting on the bench by where blondie is hunched over.

"You won't be enjoying it for long after that." He says keeping his eyes downcast.

"Oh please. Those guys? Two of them were berry picker as fuck." Blondie cringes at his choice of words but says nothing otherwise.

"Anyways, why didn't you fight back?" Dorian says sitting down and leaning back.

"That's.. Complicated." He says eventually with eyes downcast.

"You're afraid of them."

His eyes shoot up to meet his in shock. Dorian grins.

"But not exactly for yourself. Well a little, but mostly because you don't want him and his targeting others. Am I right?"

"How did you know?" He says in defeat. He sits next to Dorian and slumps forward, spent.

"I'm pretty good at reading people I suppose. That and you seem the type, a white knight that is. But anyways, I'm Dorian Glidyar, but you can call me Seer or Courier. A pleasure." He says extending his hand.

Looking up with something odd in his eyes, blondie takes his offered hand and gives it a firm shack. "Jaune Arc."

"Well Jaune Arc, let me tell you something." Dorian says leaning close. "Where I'm from, White knights don't last very long."

Whatever Jaune would have said, Dorian wouldn't know as the small bell in the locker room signaled that it was time to pile out. Offering a shrug, Dorian joined the crowd leaving, not in the least bit caring about his lack of armor and weaponry. He could always just 'magic' it when he needed it.

Entering the stadium was pretty cool he had to admit. They were standing where other students and Ms. Glynda Goodwitch could observe the fights that would take place in the ring below them. The whole stadium resembled a prewar football stadium to him. The center being the pit where people fight and trained while the actual outside is where spectators sat and observed. But it was more of rectangular.

On the other side he spots the rest of team RWBY. Since they comprise of only girls, they are all on the other side where their gender's changing area is.

Ruby and Yang also seemed to have spotted him and began to wave his way. Half-heartily he threw a wave or two back their way before starting to make his own way down. Before even making the first five steps down, the four he confronted in the locker room crowd around him and walk with him in the center. Surrounding and corralling him, obviously they planned something. He felt a little giddy at such treatment and resisted the urge to speed up, least they believe he was trying to escape. He really wasn't though. He was just excited.

He could hear their hearts beating faster in their chests, taste and smell their adrenaline and see the tension in their bodies. Whatever they were going to do, as soon as they reach the bottom they were going to act. His grin couldn't get any bigger.

He could hear another heart pounding behind him, turning his head to the side he sees Jaune behind them watching and looking very stiff. Dorian gave a roguish wink before turning back towards the closing entrance to the arena, ignoring Jaune's confusion.

As they exit into the sparring field, the group he is 'trapped' in began to lead him towards a circle in the center of the arena. Looking ahead, he sees the girls come out on the opposite side as the boys with team RWBY at the forefront. One look at him and his captors and they start to shout something, but a shack of his head stops the words on their lips. They do however, start towards the center as well, Yang at the front looking pissed as hell. Holding up a hand in a soothing gesture, he hopes it will forestall any action on their part.

Though on his part, there will be a lot of action.

"Hey ah, Cardin. Team RWBY is heading right for us. Should we back off?" Sky hisses from his place at the back. "Jaune is following us also. With Lee." He adds glancing back

"Are you kidding me? Going to have your buddies come and save you?" Cardin says shooting a glare behind him at Dorian. "Alright, here's what we're gonna do. We'll-"

"Don't worry, I told 'em to back off. They're just coming to watch and see what's up. Jaune and his friend behind us will probably do the same." Dorian says from his place in the middle, merrily.

He gets only a mildly confused look from Dove before Cardin shoots back at him from his place in the front.

"They better if your buddies know what's good for you."

"Trust me, they aren't my buddies."

When they arrive to the center of the circle, they waste no time in spreading in out. Putting distance between them and drawing their multitude of weapons. The dirt under their feet seems to pulse for a second before a shimmering barrier comes to life on the edge of the circle, surrounding them.

"What's going on Dorian?" Yang yells from outside of it.

"Just what did you do?!" Wiess throws in. For once, she's right in assuming he did something.

He is thankfully saved from answering by Jaune walking around the ring and meeting with them. Whatever goes between them, Dorian stops paying them any attention and focuses on the fight about to start.

"I hope you're ready to eat those words." An angry voice shouts from behind him.

Dorian launches himself to the side as a sword swings through where he just was. "Sure thing, Dove dear." He laughs back, ducking a back slash and then hopping to the side again as Sky launches in with his halberd.

To the left, duck, back, jump. He keeps the two of them swinging as he continues to duck and weave. It wasn't as easy as Dorian expected, but none the less he could handle it. Though barely.

Dove is good with a sword, very good. Fast too. His only real fault was overcommitment. He allows Dorians remarks to fuel his actions and make them sloppy. He can't seem to focus his frustration well and lashes out harder and faster due to it.

Sky on the other hand isn't nearly as good. He's strong, but lacks as much skill and experience as Dove has. But he is by no means a pushover, he'd have any fiend eating the business end of his halberd in no time. Yet his cowardly side is showing through his fighting. Overly cautious in his movements sometimes cost him an ideal opportunity to strike. Fighting an unarmed opponent also seems to be having an effect on him.

Besides them, the other two seem content with watching and waiting. Cardin and Russel might've just been there to let Sky and Dove tear him apart and are just there in case they're needed. Which they will be in a moment or two.

"My turn." Dorian says moving to the side of Sky inside his guard and putting him between himself and Dove. Flinching, Sky tries to maneuver his Halberd between them, but he's too far into an attack which is now missing a target. As a result, Dorian freely rams his knee into his groan, doubling Sky over. Yet before Dorian can do anymore, he is forced to roll back as Dove's blade is thrust over his friend and towards him.

But now the Courier has the space he needs. Concentrating lightly, he sends a mental pulse to the chip in his skull and a split second later a familiar flash of light explodes from his pip-boy. The Amber light hungrily swallows his body in.

An instant later, he is once more donning his courier duster and matching armor. Rolling his shoulders and giving both the Kukri in each hand a twirl, he taunts them towards him with a his finger wrapped around the handles of his Machetes.

"Once more." He says from behind an eager smile.

Outside of the arena within the crowd that's gathered to watch, an individual also drawn to the match observes with professional eyes.

"He's dancing." Pyrrha notes with surprise as she watches the fight between the new guy and team CRDL. She was honestly impressed to she someone she's heard little about match up against four others whom attend Beacon academy. Four now at least since the stranger drew a massive pair of brutal knives and began to apply heavy pressure to Dove and Sky.

"Do what?"

Sparing a glance at Jaune she catches his dumbfounded look before turning back to the fight. "Watch closely at the way he moves. Even in the brief instances when he isn't clashing with them he moves to an unheard beat. He has a flexible rhythm to his moves. I haven't seen anything like his technique before."

"So is that good or bad?" Nora asks hopping between them from where they were standing outside the sparring circle. Pyrrha just watches as the new guy continues to weather the onslaught of the entire four man team while remaining thus far unscathed. Though while he himself remains unhurt, he also hasn't landed any blows himself. Which was something she found odd. Surly someone with as much skill as he had, they could manage to land at least one strike.

"I'm not sure." Is her honest reply.

"Dove is very good with his sword, so him managing to weather him and his team, I would say it is good." Ren says letting his voice be known as he watches the battle closely. "He seems to be picking up speed too."

Pyrrha spares a glance his way before watching closer. 'He's right.'

Slowly and steadily the lone fighter is moving his entire body in that odd dance faster and faster, pushing the four harder and harder to keep up. Even from here she could see flashes of the bright smile that he wore.

He's having the time of his life apparently.

"What're the rules of the fight?" She asks not taking her eyes off the interesting individuals. A short chorus of "I don't knows" answers her.

"Ah, they kinda just grabbed him and started the match as quickly as they could. What does that mean?"

"Did they? That means it goes to knock out or incapacitation." Pyrrha says answering Jaune's question.

"Oh." He finishes lamely as they continue to watch the fight grow faster and faster. Pyrrha would not be surprised if his semblance was speed just as Ruby's. Speaking of.. wasn't he apart of team RWBY now? Yang had mentioned a new addition to the team earlier in the day by the name of.. She actually couldn't remember. Maybe it was..

"Dorian! You can do it! Kick their butts!"

Yes that was it! Thanks Yang!

Pyrrha actually forgot they are standing right there next to the blond headed girl and her team.

"So why is Dorian fighting the whole of team CRDL?"

Ruby, being the only one to turn from the fight just gave a bright smile. "He's standing up for Jaune."

"Oh I see that's nice of him to- what!?" Pyrrha turns flabbergasted to her teams leader.

He responds by scratching the back of his head. "It's a long story. But basically they were bullying me.. Again. In the locker room and Dorian saw what they were doing and just jumped in and took attention off of me. He's a.. funny guy. That's actually why they're trying to beat him up."

"Why didn't you ever say anything? I could have broken a number of bones in them and put a stop to it!"

"It doesn't work like that Pyrrha. Look, can we talk about this later? I'm kind of a nervous wreck what with Dorian in there fighting those four for me. No, because _of_ me." He groans loudly, burying his face in his hands in anxiety.

"We will, later." She promises before returning her attention back to the fight or more specifically, Dorian, with new found respect.

But while they were talking, something changed with him. His movements had become more desperate and sluggish. That smile of his disappeared and replacing it is a scowl. Something changed for the worse.

It's because of her new found respect for him that she feels her heart fall as much as it does when his two weapons shatter in a shower sparkling metal and Cardin's mace hammers into Dorian's side, sending him careening through the air.

* * *

**christian. 1: Thanks! So far I have more planned in the Courier's past then what I have for the story aha. Don't worry about lengthy flashbacks though, I am aware they can be a pain to read and am thinking on way of casting light on most or some of it. As for Wiess, I keep getting questions on that aha. Yes she is a bitch for now but that will change in time. They have just met, and in her eyes he is a totally beneath her and is getting special treatment from everyone. Plus he smelt and looked bad.**

**BieberLover69: I agree it was somewhat dry and I am a little disappointed in myself for settling for the standard intro. As for the rest of your review? I cannot but laugh manically. Stick around, I've got some stuff to through out yet.**

**The lone Wonder: Thank you for following~**

**panzer hunter: I really do try.**

**StaffSergeant: Thanks! I actually just noticed that you had your own more renowned falloutxRWBY crossover even though I follow you on a different account. I very much enjoy your FalloutxAkame Ga Kiru, very tasteful that. As for his past, as said about, loads of fluff in it.**

**Some Guy: Thats a sorta tough one. Both forces at full power clashing, I would have to say Atlas. Quantity over quality, though they also probably have better quality in most regards. But the bloody nose they would receive would be comparable to that of the 300 hundred Spartans vs the Persians and would make everyone in the wasteland smirk like a damned fool for giving them such a kick in the teeth and being so difficult.**


	6. Chapter 5: Mother(s) Will be Upset

Blood, thick and fat dripped from Dorian's left arm into a steadily growing puddle of red. Metal shards seemed to shiver in glee within his flesh as he felt them move and cut with every motion. His ribs felt little better. The pain told him a number of them were broken and when moving he felt them doing unpleasant things to his insides.

He'd been doing so well against the four punks. His arms had felt light yet comfortably tense, his legs had danced lightly on the ground, his blades had sung savagely. It had felt amazing! It had been euphoric! Even as he had sped faster and faster with them, he hadn't felt the familiar burn muscles tiring and his lungs drew in the warm and musky air easily. The well trained four man team had begun to tire as his body continued to pump fresh energy through him as things grew fiercer and faster every minute they clashed. He would win before he even reached his uppermost limit.

That is, he thought he would until an ache stole his mind.

At least what had started as an ache.

At first, he'd only felt a pressure in his skull, he had barely noticed what with how far rapt up he was parrying and dodging his opponents and focusing his footwork. But Dorian _had_ noticed as the pressure continued to grow into a sharp pain that seemed to drip through his head and wrap his eyes. Unluckily, that wasn't the worst that would come. The worst came when he began to hear a sweet voice in every clash between his Kukri and their weapons. In the thundering beat of their feet. In every curse of his opponents. In every throb of his blasted head.

Soft chuckles and sighs pervaded in each clash at first, barely audibly but noticeable there. As the ache grew so too did the voice. It's giggles began to excite him, it's hums delighted him, driving him to strike harder and faster with every utterance. It grew and grew until it eventually no longer hid in the brief exchanges. Soft and sweet, endearing and caring. Seductive and cruel. Heartless and monstrous.

But blissful all the same.

It was helpful in a way. It told him of swings and strikes to come, the effects of his actions and the best way to optimize them. Dorian first thought it was just his own natural instinct coming to him as if had always in the past, but coming oddly this time by the ache and his own adrenaline. But in the moments he heard it, or rather _felt _it, they sounded outside his head like he would someone screaming but far more distinctive. It whispered to him, it's hot breath on his ear.

And as the pain reached a peak behind his eyes, the words became horribly clear.

_Carve them into something amazing._

_Tear their bodies asunder for all those gazing._

_Show them the beast that you are, make them scream, make them caw._

_Rip and chew, claw and gnaw_

The voice, now distinctively feminine had gently cooed into him endearingly despite the words she gave. He felt arms wrap around his shoulders and a fierce hunger take his belly. His teeth and nails itched, his throat became parched. The pain pushed passed a threshold he had no idea he had and his body became heavy and uncoordinated as he attempted to fight it and the people before him.

As such, his attempt to parry a ridiculously large mace swing coming in from his right failed. Both his Kukri directly sailed into the oncoming blunt force instrument and ended in the most predictable way. His broke against the bigger weapon.

Rather, they shattered.

Metal dug into flesh sending a maelstrom of pain through his arm. Feeling the heavy instrument careen into his side the next split second, he threw himself with the devastating force and sailed out of the circle he'd foolishly placed himself within in his battle high. His move had the extra benefit of throwing him out of the way of a descending halberd more by luck than anything else, saving his shoulder no doubt. He managed to move away and get some breathing room. Breathing which hurt as his newly broken and shattered ribs ground with every breath.

Coppery blood filled his nose and mouth. He'd bitten his tongue somewhere in that disaster. _Dammit_, he thought as he stood on surprisingly steady legs despite the pain.

_What's wrong my dear? You've still got claws, you've still got fangs. Use them_. The beautiful voice breathed down his neck. He knew there was nothing there and yet he could still feel it. Blinking rapidly in an attempt to clear the pain from his eyes he tried and failed to signal his Pipboy for more weapons.

_That won't work~. _

_Why use such mundane weapons when I'm all you'll ever need?_ It rasped into his ear, the voice dripping with desperate need and and murderous desire.

A cold sweat clung to his body as his heart thundered in his chest. Just what was going on? A growl working its way from the pit of Dorian's stomach, up his throat and through bared and bloody teeth. He felt so damned hungry, so thirsty. It seemed like such a horribly familiar sensation.

His opponents, seeing that something was wrong, began to circle him slowly, reminiscent of a pack of wary nightstalkers circling wounded prey. Wary because it was prey that would be extremely dangerous when cornered. Dorian began to take steps back in an attempt to keep them in front of him. Desperately he tried to atomize a weapon, his armor, his MAD-tech arsenal, anything. In the end, the voice chuckled as Cardin roared, signaling the attack.

Sky charged in first, halberd held out before him to impale. Dorian managed to fall out of the way as his vision flashed from the pain behind his eyes while his hearing echoed. A biting pain more physical than what was in his head shot through his wounded arm as he fell on it. He clung desperately to the pain to keep himself in the fight. He rolled to the side as Cardin's mace pulverized the ground he was was just sprawled out on, sending concrete splinters and dust up in a cloud. Clearly, they aimed to kill him.

Stumbling to his feet quickly, his hearing abruptly went out in a painful shrill and no longer did he hear the heavy breathing, the pounding of hearts, the beat of feet, the roar of the crowd gathered. Nothing.

Except for her.

_Trust me_

_Trust me~_

_Let me out_

_Let me out~_

He snarled, more at the daggers that slid into his shoulders than at the voice. Russel had managed to get behind him and slammed both daggers into either shoulder, he hadn't the necessary senses to notice the sneak. His nose was filled with coppery red, his vision was fading, he tasted bile and more blood, his head was filled with Her. His only sense unaffected was feeling, and all he received from that was a flood of pain from everything bleeding all into one another parody of hell.

Roaring, he flexed tight the thick muscles of his shoulders. Pain shot through his damaged muscles but he keep them tight and the knives trapped in him. He felt a tug and could easily imagine the confusion on Russel's face. A face he meant to ruin in the next second. He threw his undamaged elbow back and vaguely felt a nose break messily and the weight on the blades in him fell away.

Dorian pulled the daggers out and snarled at the dozen hazy looking humanoids moving in on him. He threw himself down the center and tackled the realist one, Sky as it turned out, to the ground. Underneath him he felt armor and ribs strain at his weight. Not allowing the surprise of not crushing him to surprise himself, Dorian rammed the knives into both Sky's shoulder blades as his friend did to him, before swiftly raining down four heavy blows with his fist. The pretty face of Sky was ruined in the first two.

_His mother will be upset.~ fufufu_

A heavy blow swept him off the downed man and sent him skittering days away. At least, it felt that long. His left arm truly was being trashed. First shrapnel, then a slice from Dove somewhere in the mix, and now it was destroyed by a heavy sweep from what could be nothing other than Cardin's mace. Dorian clenched his jaw hard enough to realistically feel his teeth cracking to try to force himself to regain something, anything.

_Use me_.

Dorian felt the promise in those words as he tried to stand on weak legs.

And failed.

The pain would vanish. Cardin, Dove, Russel, and Sky would die. He would be victorious and everything would finally make sense. It would be so easy. He wouldn't even have to worry about Ozpin or any of these other 'hunters'. He would consume them as well. He would hunt them like the prey they were.

The satisfaction of Her soothed his mind. Lulling him away.

He felt himself slipping. A funny sensation took his damaged insides and outsides. His teeth tingled, so did his nails. It would be so easy.

**Concentrate.**

**Focus.**

His eyes snapped open as the sensation paused, as if unsure. His vision no longer flashed. He could see Cardin and Dove looking at him warily, sending a glance or two towards their other two teammates. Russel was trying to stand on dizzy feet and Sky was laying near motionless, the rise and fall of his chest the only indication he lived.

**Get up.**

Slowly, Dorian moved weak feet underneath him, feeling as what little energy he had left fueled the simple motion. He slipped on the growing puddle of red beneath him causing him to stumble to the side but he managed to catch himself. If he fell down now, he wasn't sure he could get up. Growling, he more firmly placed his feet beneath him and stood tall.

_Use me. Doesn't it hurt?_

_I can make it go away._

_I can make everything feel so very wonderful._

Dorian managed to rasp a painful chuckle at the voice.

**If it doesn't hurt, it doesn't count.**

The voice of his dead father snarled at the voice. The voice seemed to wither under its attention before retreating to the back of his skull in a huff of frustration.

Dorian's hearing returned all at once and again he could hear his desperately pounding heart, the heavy beating of his opponents own and their labored breathing. Returning also was the more focused sensations and feelings. His arm burned and ached and hurt, but he felt the heat and throb of healing already taking it, along with all the other damage he sustained. Most of which he wasn't aware of taking in the rush of delirious and desperate fighting. His body was kicked into overdrive to bring him back to his peak.

Dorian blinked rapidly as the black spots faded and his vision quickly returned. The once white and pristine circle now had messy red splotches and smears across it, telling a grisly story of the past few minutes. He wasn't sure how much time had passed. Team CRDL was a mess, but they still looked better than him.

Which made him angry, he hated being the worst dressed in the room.

He would fix that.

Dorian made the mistake of playing with them at first. He shouldn't have tried to test them or tried to explore how high he could reach in that unexplainable moment against these new people. Whatever it was, it was gone and he was left to defend himself in a shitty state. It was almost fair for team CRDL now.

"Ready?"

Their bodies tensing was the only answer he needed as he threw himself at them. He pulsed his pipboy and wasn't surprised to get no response as it rebooted for some reason. He rolled his rapidly healing shoulders before he meet with his two remaining opponents.

Dove lunged forward in an attempt to spear him. Dorian spun around it on his heels before falling to his knees, ducking beneath Cardin's sweeping mace. Said sweeping mace also forcing a surprised Dove to duck as well. Shitty coordination on their part, their loss his gain. Dorian, seeing an opportunity for dirty play, grabbed hold of Dove's chest piece while they were on the same level and heaved the startled boy closer. The look of utter astonishment amused him before he ended it by slamming his forehead into the swordsman's face once, twice and then finally a third time. Ruining Dove's nose and sending spots back through Dorian's own vision.

Hearing a grunt behind him, Dorian, with a pained roar, heaved the dazzled Dove backwards and threw the boy bodily into Cardin as he winded back for another swing with his mace, toppling the bigger guy. Even with his hurt arm mostly fixed, the maneuver hurt, hell his entire body hurt. He was exhausted. He needed to finished the fight quickly and in an appropriately unsavory manner of course.

Thinking about it with a clearer head, he didn't actually know the rules to the match. In the wasteland fights such as this usually went until first blood was drawn, loss of fighting capability or sometime even until death, murder duels as he called them. He doubted it was the former as he would have lost much earlier, and a death match was too brutal for a place that was as soft as this. Then again, the whole match thus far was brutal, even by his standards and Carden at least had tried to cave in his head at every opportunity that presented itself. Perhaps the place wasn't as soft as he originally thought, Dorian felt that he liked it a little more for that.

Only one way to safely win. Hurt them so they were no longer able to continue the fight yet not so bad as he would have to worry about Ozpin finding fault. Dorian didn't want the man, whom was a big unknown and was potentially very dangerous, mad for severely harming some of his students. Say what you will about the Courier, but he was not a mindless killer. Dorian always paid close attention to what his actions could cause. Most of the time anyways.

Standing, he took note of the match so far. Sky was down, his face a mess. Dove too was down similarly. Cardin for the most part was fine, just breathing heavily and Russel was nearly to his feet, his nose still bleeding freely but ultimately fine. Hell, the floor was nearly more red then white now. Out of curiosity, he sniffed the air more thoroughly and caught a lot of old and long dried blood he hadn't noticed in his excitement earlier. The place really wasn't as soft as Dorian originally thought.

Thoughts aside, he still had kids to bully into submission. Picking the easiest one, the Courier dashed towards Russel as the boy finally got to his feet. Cardin shouted a warning while he too tried to move towards his final standing teammate. Dorian however, was faster.

Russel took a stance low to the ground with an easy fluid look to it. Clearly he knew some form of hand to hand which utilized his smaller form against his own bigger mass. Probably not a good idea to charge into that. Changing tactics in his head a little bit, Dorian decided to play a little dirtier. It was his favorite way to play.

As Russel prepared to meet his charge in hand to hand, Dorian kicked up Sky's halberd and caught it. Russel's eyes widened as he took a surprised step back. Dorian winked at him before spinning it end over end quickly as he drew up to him.

"That isn't f-" Russel started before the metal shaft slammed into the side of his head, pitching him to the side with his eyes emptily broadcasting his lack of consciousness.

The high-pitched whistle of an object cutting through air barely fazed Dorian's growing smirk as he danced on his feet and parried Cardin's blow intended for his back, sending into the ground. Using his foot, Dorian trapped the heavy weapon there even as his larger opponent fought with all his might to free it. Cardin managed to snarl in his face before Dorian's fist viciously snapped his head to the side.

"Fuck off cunt."

One liner complete, he kicked off the mace head and spun in the air with the spinning of the Halberd before bringing the side of the heavy axe head and ending all the gathered momentum into Cardin's head, sending him down with a thump not quite as heavy as the blow which sent him there.

With the larger guy down, the bubble over the ring shimmered brightly before dissipating in a shower of light. A blanket of total silence descended. Dorian didn't care though. His body hurt, he was tired, he was hungry, his body was hot from healing and most importantly he had to use the little boy's room.

Casting a glance at the now red ring and the scattered and beaten team, he left them and started walking to where he knew the restrooms were. As an afterthought, he cast the halberd aside with a theatrical huff.

As the loud sing of the falling metal echoed in the silence, a single, unabashed cheer went up from the gathered crowd accompanied by a "you rock!". It belonged to Yang. It was nearly instantly followed by an odd few in the crowd and very quickly built to the entire arena being filled with a collective roar of approval. By the time he returned to the locker rooms his ears rung horribly and a throbbing hit his head like a sack of angry bloatflys. Thankfully not like whatever he felt in the fight. Just a regular headache, but regardlessly a horrible one.

He relieved himself with a scowl and too many questions.

* * *

"Dorian! What the heck was that? Are you ok!?" Ruby shouts as Dorian returns from the locker room. A fresh pang of worry runs through her as she runs and meets him halfway. As she closes the distance her eyes widen in shock as the smell of blood permeates the air around him and a rustic red coats his tattered attire.

"We should really be taking you to the infirmary." Blake says, agreeing with her unspoken thoughts as she and the rest of Ruby's team catch up to her and Dorian, accompanied by Jaune and his own team.

Dorian just scowls at her and Blake's fussings before nodding his head towards the others behind her. "I'm fine. Who are they?"

"They're my team." Dorian turns his head towards Jaune before staring hard into for a long moment. Ruby thinks to intervene before he nods once for the blond team leader to continue. "That's Pyrrha." Jaune gestures to her to which the aforementioned steps forward with her hand held out and a sheepish smile on her face. "That was a.. good fight. Though something changed somewhere in the middle. What happened?"

Ruby watches as Dorian eyes Pyrrha and her hand with something like caution in his eyes. In the end he just grunts in acknowledgement and turns to the rest of team JNPR, not answering her question or acknowledging her any further. For some reason he seems more wary than usual. By now Ruby already noticed the way he looked at, or rather watched, people. He seemed continually suspicious of others. She reasoned that it might've been caused by his previously nomadic lifestyle. But that still didn't fit entirely.

"And this i-"

"Hi! I'm Nora! It's so very awesome to meet you!" The ever excited ginger haired girl jumps to Dorian's side at what could only be described as uncalled for and unbridled joy. His instantly astonished face causes a round of chuckles to bubble up from the group, hers among them.

"You'll have to forgive Nora. She's... Not very sane I'm afraid. I'm Lie Ren by the way. Uhh, interesting fighting style, what is it?"

Dorian's confused look returns when the more stable minded Lee drags the excited Nora away before bowing at the waist, his long black pony tail falling over his shoulder. Dorian's lips press together into a line as his eyes narrow, it looks like he's about to simply grunt in acknowledgement again before his mouth twists into a smile only slightly wider then his eyes.

"You have lovely eyes."

As the words leave his lips, Dorian's face instantly relaxes into a more neutral expression before paling slightly as he seems to realize what he's said. "It's interesting is what I meant! Haha! Never seen pink eyes before. Apologies, it's the blood loss Im sure." He gives a disarming grin before quickly turning to Jaune, whatever he's about to say, Rung cuts him off first. He got the introductions, but now seriously, that was a messy fight!

"And speaking of blood loss, you're ridiculously wounded! We need to get you to the infirmary team right now!" Ruby accuses before moving behind him and placing her hands on his lower back, trying to guide him to the med teams already at work on team CRDL still laying in the ring.

"You're so heavy! Come on everyone! Help me here!" She yells over his confused compliant, in the back of her mind she realizes that what she's doing probably isn't the smartest thing to be doing to someone so hurt.

Yang gives an enthusiastic "huzzah!" As she all but leaps in to help her. Nora laughs as she too follows in with Yang and they begin pushing as well with her.

"Hey, I don't think you should be so rough with someone who's so hurt.." Pyrrha offers raising a hand after them as they begin moving him inch by slow inch. Her remark is followed by Lie's as he too watches unsure of what to do. "Um, I think he isn't too thrilled with this."

"What? We're trying to help-" Ruby starts before her, Yang and Nora suddenly find themselves pushing nothing as Dorian nimbly steps to the side, his face annoyed. "Will you listen to me? I'm fine."

"What do you mean 'all fine'? I saw you take at least a dozen hits in there and watched you bleed everywhere because of it! You're hurt!" Ruby shoots back getting frustrated. Maybe pushing him was a dumb idea, but him not getting treated for obviously painful wounds that were probably very serious is even dumber! She watched him take Cardin's mace full on, she knew the affect that could have on a human body.

"I healed. By dinner time any traces of the damage I took from that match will have disappeared."

She feels her frustration dissipate into confusion. "What?" Blake asks beating her to the punch, everyone else also giving similarly confused expressions.

"My augmented regeneration has already closed most, if not all, superficial wounds and at the very least ceased bleeding in the more major injuries. Any and all bones that were knocked about are likely back in place by now and are probably mostly knitted back together. I'm fine, let those losers have the full focus of your surgeons, I don't need it." As he explained it to her and everyone else, his scowl slowly softening to a more neutral expression. Not quite smiling, but definitely not frowning anymore.

Ruby wants to believe him, but she can't help but still doubt him and worry. He is a new addition to her team after all, he's her responsibility now. "Prove it." She knows her stubbornness is showing but can't be bothered to care at the moment.

Dorian sighs at her request and seems to consider arguing for a moment before a smirk reaches his lips. "Fine." He says nodding to himself.

He glances at the devise on his arm, his Pip-boy if she recalls correctly, before sighing and pulling his arms free of his duster which falls to the floor in a heap. A heavy black carapace joins the space next to it with a heavy thump before being followed by a grey satchel, some odd pieces of lighter armor and finally a coyote tan wool shirt stained red falls to the floor with a wet slap.

Dorian, now topless, spreads his arms out theatrically offering everyone a better view of his body, receiving a plethora of shocked eyes. The first thing to stand out to Ruby is the amount of blood that stains his tanned skin. It heavily coats his shoulders and arms like lakes while streams of red flow out, criss-crossing the rest of him with trails of it. True to his word though, the blood is already dying and turning a different color than crimson.

"That's.. A lot of scars." Blake whispers from her side. True to her word, Ruby can see pale marks of past wounds criss-crossing his torso. Pale and faded, thick and ragged, long and thin, round and deep, all manner present of his hide. Some are obviously the work of blades, others by bullets while a few the origin is just unidentifiable. But the oddest one is on the center of his chest. It is about the size of her fist with a spiderweb of scars spreading out maybe half a foot before fading into tan flesh.

Ruby catches herself staring and shakes her head furiously trying to get ride of the blush taking her face. His body while bloody and scarred... Is still very, very nice. Very toned and lean, packed with muscle but not in the overly built way like the meathead Cardin. His body resembles more of a top performing acrobatic than a body builder, little to no excess fat with broad, strong shoulders, defined abs, strong arms and.. Her face is really hot right now. Looking around, she spots everyone else is more or less similarly affected, flushed faces and slightly hungry eyes, which Dorian is grinning at in good humor. She smiles, glad that he's back to normal.

"What's with the big scare on your chest?" Jaune asks awkwardly, the only one not flushed red other than Lie Ren whom is currently avoiding the awkward situation Jaunefound himself in by busying himself with his nails.

Dorian's grin seems to grow wider even as it seems to look a little bittersweet. "Unlike most of the rest, it's a scar left from surgery and maybe one of the first I'd ever received."

"That sounds like a good story!" Ruby says jumping onto anything for a distraction from the temptation that is his body. Her small outburst seems to awaken the other girls as they too more or less realize what was going on and turn a brighter shade of red before looking away in all different directions. She can't stop herself from laughing at their expense, happy to have caught herself before the rest.

"Eh I suppose it is. But I think I'll save that one for next time. Maybe." He shrugs innocently offering a teasing smile.

"What about that tattoo?"

All at once the smile disappears as his amber eyes lock onto Weiss, trapping her in place. Ruby feels herself take an unconscious step backwards away from the Courier as her internal instincts scream "danger, danger". Weiss, too takes a step back, her usual bluster gone, replaced by wide and surprised eyes. The air hangs thick with tension as violent intent seems to ooze from every aspect of Dorian's exposed body. Suddenly his tempting muscles don't look so tempting coiled and taught as they as, ready to lash out in a moment.

"Um.." Ruby starts tying and failing to think of something to say to ease the tension. So the tattoo was a very sore subject for him. Looking at it plainly, she couldn't see any indication that answers why. Just stylized black symbols stitched together into a neat line on the left side of his neck with a menacing bird's skull underneath it. She couldn't say she's surprised she didn't notice it a moment ago knowing what her attention was more focused on.

"It's a lot of things. A branding. A curse. Vindication.. But mostly, it's a warning of my first crime." He says with a sense of finality that brokers no argument. The tense air lasts for another long moment before his Pip-boy beeps twice taking his attention away from Weiss and all at once he's done. The threatening air dissipates and Ruby breathes a sigh of relief along with Weiss.

"Nice." Dorian grins as he taps a few keys on his pip-boy before he's engulfed in an already slightly familiar amber light. When it dies down he stands there again dressed in a thin tan tee-shirt with matching shorts, the pile of his previous bloody attire gone.

He grins happily to himself before turning and walking away. After a few steps he seems to remember them and looks over his shoulder, "I'm going to go spar in the corner by myself. See you guys at lunch." With that he turns back and walks off without looking back. For some reason Ruby can't help but feel a little closer to understanding her new teammate. She smiles despite what just happened. "Alright guys! He has the right idea!"

* * *

"Fuck." Dorian recites as he spins with his spear in a pattern so familiar to him that his muscles follow through with little thought on his behalf.

"Fuck." He had already determined to play the nice false face and pretend to be nothing like what the Mojave knew him to be and yet he went and stared down Weiss and very nearly went kill her as old and bitter memories took him, then again with a rational head, with the feats she pulled in the snake, he doubt it would have worked well in his favor, especially with his Pip-boy being down then. Sure though it was still satisfying seeing her shut that fucking mouth of hers for once and look afraid. It felt so damnably great, but dammit now things would be awkward. Not worth it in the long run.

Things were just getting decent with everyone too, Weiss included as she hadn't been too unpleasant earlier that day, and yet he fucked all that over.

"Fuck"

On the bright side, his pop-boy is working again, he hadn't realized how worried he'd been until it finished rebooting and a surge of relief had washed over him. He has too much in there to afford to loose now in a new weird world, investments worth many hundreds of thousands of caps along with many irreplaceable items stored on the devise, such as the wicked spear he's spinning along in his war dance.

Granted, it wasn't that it was made of some pre-war tech like his MAD arsenal that gave it it's importance and worth, but rather the memories surrounding it. It was, for a time, the only tool he had while alone in the great wastes. For the longest time, it was his only lifeline, even his only companion for four long years.

He actually named it Bora and took to talking to it for years, hell he knew it was wrong but still caught him self at times communicating with it.

Dorian spins the weapon above him continuously as he dances round with it getting in a comfortable rhythm to start the dance proper. The black forged 16 inch steel blade whistles familiarly as the six feet of the rough iron shaft twirls easily in his hands despite its weight. Quickly the Courier looses himself to the practiced motions and old memories that begin to resurface in his mind. The memories are mostly bittersweet but he enjoys the good feelings he'd felt at the time regardless as he continues dancing, spear moving in wide sweeps along with him. Thinking of it, this spear was with him the day he truly became a Marked One.

* * *

_So cold._

Young Dorian shivered, pulling the furs tighter around himself as he continued his trek upwards. He would thank Lia profusely for her words of wisdom on the cool mountain air upon his return. At least if he returned. He shivered again, though not at the cold this time.

He continued his slow and cautious trek through the black underbrush, his head scanning the surroundings constantly. The noises in the mountain wood struck a fear in him greater than that which his father gave him. Bad juju.

A crash somewhere behind him sent him flat to the ground under some bush. Narrowing his Amber eyes into the fog he fought to make out movement. His knuckles already white from the cold managed to turn an even lighter shade on the shaft of the heavy spear he was given as his eyes darted from shape to shape. Everything looked monstrous in the gloom and fog, his only hope was that whatever things lurked within wouldn't be able to make him out either. He didn't know how long he laid there breathing as slowly and quietly as he could afford, but as his muscles started to cramp and he was about to get up and stretch them, a shape moved.

What he had previously mistaken for a withered mass of.. something broke its statue like stillness and began to turn this way and that. Dorians heart froze in his chest as it twisted unnaturally in his direction. His breath halted as the thing continued it long stare, before finally it sunk low to the ground before _slithering_ away.. Whatever it was, he was thankful he was patient. Waiting another minute until he could no longer make out the.. thing in the fog, he started to move upwards once more. Still slow and cautiously.

Upwards and upwards.

Ducking as things in the gloom sound close or when he spotted movement.

Sliding on his belly under masses of cancer thorn.

Leaning on the heavy spear as the air grew thin and his body tired.

Dreading as things began to sound near him.

Hallow with exhaustion as they closed in on him.

Resigned as they wrapped claws around him.

...

Confused as his eyes opened to a light brighter than the sun. Closing his eyes did nothing, and he quickly found that he couldn't turn his head. Whether from lack of strength or some bad Juju, he didn't know.

"Ah," his voice came out weakly and sounding dumb to him. But as he heard his voice he became aware to the harsh ringing in his ears. "Ah..," He tried again but it sounded even weaker the second time and the ringing harsher.

"Shhh," someone said above him. He strained his eyes to see who it was but couldn't. Though he didn't know who it belonged to, he knew who it could only be. His heart pounded hard in his chest and he began to whimper despite himself. He couldn't breath, he couldn't think.

He was utterly afraid.

"Shhh," the person, no the thing above him repeated as a dark silhouette came into his vision. His eyes widened as he felt tears begin to stream from his eyes.

"Ava le javor? Gah ha ha. Bad." Another voice said taking on some parody of that of a females pitch but sounding so very broken in rhyme and rhythm. "Bad." It repeated as it and another came into view on both his side.

"Bad Juju. Hehehahah." Laughed the one above him as hand ending in claws and needles descended on his bare body and he entered a world of agony.

Two days later he made the trip down, the dark things in the mist kept their distance from him, but he heard some follow in his wake for a few minutes before seeming to loose interest and leaving to be replaced by curious others. They continued this until he reached near the bottom of the mountain, whispering all the while, a detail he hadn't been able to hear on his trip up.

At the end of his journey at the base of the mountain some of his tribe awaited him. His ever imposing father at the front, his features for the first time expressed something like pride before quickly returning to his characteristic frown. He nodded in acknowledgment before turning away.

"Happy birthday!" Lia shouted wrapping her arms around Dorian happily. "I knew you would make it." She said into his hair using her superior height against him again. Dorian felt himself grin from habit only as his arms returned the embrace. In truth, he felt too exhausted, too hurt, and too changed to really feel joy at her affections.

A cough from one of the elders had them separate. "I speak for the tribe when I say this, well done Dorian Glidyar. As the son of Hal Glidyar, we expected nothing less, but between you and I, it is still a relief. Happy Ninth, and allow me to be the first when I say: welcome to the Marked One's tribe." The far from feeble old man thumps a scarred fist over the old, white scar on his chest as Dorian echoes the gesture over his own now pink and throbbing Mark as things under his skin still work to change his body for the tribe.

For the Tribe, and for the Juju gods above.

* * *

**A/N: Well there we go. I know I promised after exams that updates would just sort of pop out, but a lot of my buddies and what not decided to start of this break with a close together series of parties. I think I woke up in more strange places this past month than I have this entire year. Anyways, things seem to be dying down now so we'll see if I push these fuckers out any faster. **

**Author notes will now be at the end of chapters above the review replies as it seems more professional to me at this moment.**

** As a side note, as a few of you have pointed out, a beta reader would be very helpful in catching the many errors I make due to autocorrect on my phone -I've legit written just about this entire story on my phone btw- so if any of you cats are interested, pm me. If not and you spot a mistake, review or pm that I'll hop right to it and edit that little shit to perfection.**

** Love always, Some stranger over the internet whom has a fetish that each and everyone of you feeds by reading.**

* * *

**Reviews:**

**Apparuerit Diabolo et Loqui: Nope no falling spaghetti this time, though things did drop messily. Perhaps somewhere in the future I'll feature some good old pasta waterfalling from pockets, currently I don't quite trust myself to write something like that too well. I have a ways to go in terms of writing skill.**

**StaffSergeant: I enjoy seeing your comment of "I like this" every update, it makes me chuckle. But both CRDL and Dorian messed up when the hit landed, both in different ways.**

**SilverstormXD: Stabbing and shooting will happen in gallons next chapter-maybe-, but I totally haven't not thought of that and proceeded to save before doing it. It wasn't not fun and didn't not relieve any stress I might have felt at any given time. heh.**

**azix39: Haha so sorry about the wait, if what you reviewed is true then I totally know the feeling and feel slightly bad. But this chapter -if it meets your standards anyways- is dedicated to you! Take that as you will.**

**bad speller: I read your comment and promptly deleted what I had written -about 2k words- and decided to accomplish three of those four things in this chapter. Though if team CRDL being in the infirmary counts for the first, then I suppose I managed all four! Excuse me while I pop open a bottle of Ale to celebrate my good work! -I'll only drink a quarter since this is so late.-**

**trninjakiller: HOLD UP IT'S HERE! Don't find me and make me unpretty! It's my best and arguably only good quality! haha, anyways thanks for the cliffhanger complement! I have great faith in my ability to tease (; and as a side note, I know the unsaticfaction of a liked story being abandoned -still waiting on an update to God of Death- so I likely won't throw this away. At least without saying as much before hand.**

**Divider: Literally the best criticism I have ever read on here let alone out of anything I've received. I really hope you stick around to criticize me more because you told me great info! Also I agree a beta would be very helpful, but alas, Im weird about stuff like that. I'll try to find someone and give it a shot, I'm just being overly anal about it. **

**Lord Sigfry: You fuckin wot m8? I'll have you know *copy pasta navy seal inserted here* But I laughed, so thanks for the silly review! -No idea how to take you with the review so this is my reponse, punk.-**

**ThatInternetGuy: I actually really enjoy them, im fucking weird I know haha, just fun for me. Though they do keep me from doing fun shit, so I dislike them for that.**

**weasel AKA boundedsumo: You mother fucker. I usually hate when I see a scrub reviewing every chapter, but in this case for my story, thanks! Get's my review count and therefor receives a little more attention! I hope to keep you interested and following!**

**A/N: Anything that I say towards any and all reviewers that could be offensive, such as name calling and what not, I do not mean and am just picking fun. If you take it seriously I am going to pick fun at you the hardest because it's my fetish and I take my kicks where I can get them. That was somewhat of a joke as well. Feel free to some crap at me too, I wont suddenly get offended and drop the story haha.**


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